Fragments
by chattypandagurl
Summary: The Charmed Ones don't know who Chris Perry is, but then, neither does he. As Chris struggles to regain his identity, secrets are slipped, and the fragments of his past may finally break him, especially with the intervention of a familiar stranger.
1. Amnesia

Chris has amnesia, secrets will be slipped, painful memories reopened afresh, the present Big Bad will by overshadowed by an even _stronger _Big Bad . . . and Chris has to rediscover his own identity. A Chris centric fic, this is set during the sixth season. Piper is pregnant, but neither she nor Leo nor the sisters realize who Chris really is.

Reviews will be much appreciated! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Chris or anything from _Charmed. _Unfortunately.

* * *

Chris orbed in front of Piper, who yelped in surprise and dropped the casserole she had just taken out of the oven. 

"Chris!" she scolded, now trying to salvage some of her ruined casserole, "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

But before Chris could open his mouth, Piper sent him a death glare, "If it's a demon, you can forget it. Tonight is going to be nice and _quiet._ Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."

Looking slightly deflated, he retorted, "No, it _can't_. It's a warlock that wants to get Wyatt's powers–"

"We can deal with warlocks," Piper interjected, dismissing him with a wave of her hand, "If anything is attacking, we'll know–"

Just as the words came out of her mouth, a loud earth shaking explosion erupted from upstairs.

"Wyatt!" Both of them cried out at the same time.

Chris disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs.

"Wait a minute!" Piper cursed as the whitelighter paid no heed, abandoning her casserole and running as fast as her pregnant self could up the stairs to her son.

Chris orbed into Wyatt's room to see him bawling his eyes out. His shield was up, and the warlock was trying to break through it. Chris instantly waved his arm out, sending the warlock flying into the wall, away from Wyatt.

The warlock turned to face him instead. He sneered knowingly, as if he knew something Chris didn't. Before Chris could use his telekinesis again, the warlock made a strange grabbing motion.

Chris's head felt like it was going to explode. He fell to his knees, clutching his head, drowning in the excruciating pain.

He couldn't bear the agony. It felt like his brain was being ripped from his skull, an eerie ringing sound penetrating his ears. Chris gritted his teeth together tightly, tasting blood in his mouth.

He couldn't hear the warlock screaming in agony at just being vanquished.

"So much for a quiet night," he distantly heard someone saying. The voice sounded muffled.

"Chris? Chr–"

He descended into unconsciousness, and could not hear anything anymore.

* * *

Moaning at his throbbing headache, he attempted to drag himself out of the comforts of the soft, warm bed. 

He walked out into the corridor, feeling disoriented, and paused, as if unsure where to go.

As he descended down the stairs, he had to hold onto the railings for support, stumbling a little on the last step, but somehow managing to stay upright.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" A feminine voice asked from behind him. He turned to see a beautiful brown haired woman standing behind him, smiling uncertainly.

"Uh . . ." he had no answer for that. He had no idea what he should be doing.

So he asked the question any sensible person would when faced with the predicament he was in.

"Who are you?"

The woman's smile faltered, and then it was back again, "Yeah, whatever, stop joking around . . ."

"No, really, who are you?"

She looked worried now. "Phoebe, remember? C'mon, you didn't get hit in the head _that_ hard!"

He frowned. "I got hit in the head?"

The woman, Phoebe, was backing away slowly, subtly reaching into her purse. "Piper! Paige!"

His eyes darted around, completely confused. He took a step forward towards Phoebe.

She took something out of her purse, waving it around, threatening warningly, "Stay away from me, demon, or I'll–" she stopped and stared at the pen she had pulled out in disappointment.

_Damn. I really need to start putting more useful things in my purse._

"What is it Pheebs?" Paige asked, running down the stairs, her hair still wet and only half dried. She noticed what Phoebe was pointing her pen at. "Why are you pointing a pen at the whitelighter?"

He turned up in confusion at Paige. "What's a whitelighter?"

Paige exchanged glances with Phoebe, who mouthed "See, demon".

But her younger sister shook her head. If a demon _was_ impersonating their whitelighter, he'd definitely try to act like one instead of being completely oblivious to everything.

They were soon joined by the eldest Halliwell sister, who instantly noticed the tension in the room.

"Guys, what's going on?"

"He's a demon," Phoebe blurted out, pointing accusingly at him. She had to assume that, because she couldn't feel _anything _from him. Well, she never could, but still . . .

The "demon" snorted. "Are you people crazy? Demons don't exist. That's like saying witches and angels are real . . ."

The three sisters exchanged glances.

He was getting more and more impatient as the throbbing headache began to subside.

Turning to the newest addition, he decided to ask the question that he hoped _she_, at least, could answer. For some reason, he felt that the pregnant looking woman was one to be trusted.

"Who am I?"

Piper groaned loudly. "What the hell did that warlock do?"

"Should we call for Leo?" Phoebe asked gently.

Massaging her temples irritably, Piper replied quickly, "No, I don't want to bother him and his Elder duties right now."

Of course, the real reason was that she didn't want Leo to know that she was pregnant with their second child. _That _was definitely going to be awkward. This is why Piper would prefer to keep this secret. It was bad enough for Leo to leave one son. How would he feel knowing that he was leaving Piper to raise two kids?

"Isn't anyone going to answer my question?" he asked impatiently, his green eyes flaring in irritation.

Turning slowly to him, Paige answered, "Okay. You're Chris Perry, our neurotic whitelighter from the future. We're your witch charges."

"The future?" Chris looked stunned. "A-A whitelighter? Witches?" his face clouded with suspicion. "Who exactly _are _you people?"

Phoebe chuckled. "Neurotic as always."

But then he frowned. _Chris Perry. _The name sounded familiar, but . . . somehow not quite right. "Chris" felt right, but his last name just didn't click with him. Could he trust these women? After all, they were blabbing about witches and demons, things that only existed in fairy tales and Disney movies.

"What do we do?" Paige asked her sisters, ignoring Chris.

Chris was angry. He had no idea what was going on, _who _he was . . . and here they were discussing him as if he weren't there. A slight familiarity of the situation crossed his mind for a moment, but it was gone, and he was confused once more.

"Sorry, Piper, but we need Leo. _LEO!" _Phoebe shouted before Piper could stop her.

After a moment's pause, a swirl of bright shinning orbs descended down beside Piper.

Chris stared, entranced at the familiar blue lights.

"Blessed be." Leo greeted serenely.

"Leo, we've got ourselves a problem," Phoebe stated abruptly, preferring to get straight to the point and fixing this mess.

The serene, peaceful look on Leo's face faded. "Problem? Shouldn't Chris be helping you with it?" he inclined his head at the dazed whitelighter.

"Well . . ." Paige added sheepishly, "That's kind of the problem. See, Chris sort of . . . doesn't remember who he is."

Leo looked as if not sure how to react to this. "_What?_"

"A warlock tried to attack Wyatt yesterday. Don't worry, he's fine," Piper added at Leo's stricken expression, "Chris got there first and the warlock did something to him. At first, I thought he had just knocked him out, but I guess he did something more."

Leo turned to his wife and caught sight of her bulging belly. He stared at it for a moment, his mouth agape.

"Wh-Are you–" Leo stammered, unable to get the words out.

"Pregnant? Yeah." Piper sent a glare to Phoebe, who shrugged helplessly. "Can we keep our attention at the problem at hand?"

Leo didn't look like he had any intention of being distracted. "Why didn't you _tell _me?"

Piper shrugged, unable to mask the pain in her eyes. "I didn't want to make you feel even more horrible for leaving me to raise yet another kid." she said softly, not able to look at Leo straight in the eye, "Believe me, I didn't expect or want this to happen."

Chris winced horribly at the last comment, stung for some unknown reason.

An awkward silence elapsed before Leo spoke again, his voice falsely cheerful.

"Let me try healing him," Leo suggested, striding over to Chris.

Something inside Chris stirred. It was a sense of loathing for the man coming towards him. Before Leo would place his hands over Chris, he backed away, snarling, "Get away from me, you bastard!"

Leo looked surprised, then angry. "I'm _trying _to help you out here, Chris."

_It's not like I have any reason to help you, especially after Valhalla. _

"Yeah?" Chris sneered, still unsure why these hateful feelings were so strong, "I don't need your help, and never have." Chris's face returned to normal; now he just looked confused. A desperate expression crossed over his face.

_Who the hell am I!_ He fumed in sudden anger. Right now, he wanted answers. Chris wanted to be _anywhere _but here, surrounded by these familiar strangers. He wanted to be somewhere where he could find out answers instead of being talked to like he wasn't present, having his questions deflected and ignored.

A picture formed in his mind. It was a large, old book sitting on top of a podium. Suddenly, he felt a strange floating sensation. When he felt solid ground again, Chris realized that he was suddenly at the feet of the book.

Hesitantly, his heart beating quickly, he picked himself up and flipped through it, his eyes widening in utter amazement as each page detailed various demons and magical creatures.

He smiled, amused.

_Either those women are telling the truth, or they have no love lives. _

Chris continued to flip through the Book of Shadows in fascination, completely unaware of the pandemonium going on directly beneath the creaky floorboards.

"Where did he go?" Piper shrieked. "How can he orb if he doesn't even know what a whitelighter is?"

"He still has the ability, even if he doesn't have his memory," Leo reasoned, "Relax, Piper."

Piper stared at him incredulously, "Relax?_ Relax!_ How can I relax when he could be out there spilling his guts and betraying our secret?"

"I doubt it," Leo argued.

His wife crossed her arms and gave him a stern reprimanding look. "And why not?"

"Because he's up in the attic," Leo said simply.

Piper opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it. "Oh."

Paige sniggered. She started to orb herself up to the attic butPhoebe protested, calling for her to wait. The bright orbs came back down, touched Phoebe, and proceeded to go up the floorboard.

Grabbing Piper's arm lightly, Leo orbed the two up to the attic.

Chris jumped at the sound of chimes. He gestured to the book he was currently engrossed in. "I guess this is your hobby?"

"More like our destiny," Paige corrected grudgingly.

"Damn," Chris muttered.

"Damn is right," Paige agreed, "Just like this situation we have here."

Paige rubbed her hands together absently before turning to Phoebe. "So, Miss Psychology Major, what does one do to re-start someone's memory?"

Phoebe thought about it for a moment. "Well, we should bring him to places that are familiar, try to jolt his memory. But I think we should let Leo try to heal him first."

Considering the fact thatChris had lashed out at him before, Leo didn't particularly like this plan. He glanced at Chris first for permission, who looked wary of him, the fire back in his brilliantly green eyes.

"He's not going to hurt you," Piper heard herself coaxing. She almost stopped herself. It felt so strange . . . but so natural.

For a moment there, Piper could have sworn she saw a flash of recognition in Chris's eyes, but it was gone as fast as it had come. Although he did grudgingly nod his permission.

Leo placed his hands over Chris, trying and failing to ignore the heated glare he was receiving from him.

"Did it work?" Piper asked impatiently.

"Nope," Both Chris and Leo answered.

Paige sighed. "I guess we're going with Phoebe's plan,"

Phoebe shook her head. "I don't think it'll work either. This isn't Chris's time; who knows what is familiar to him? I mean, it's not like he ever talked about himself. 'Future consequences' remember? Where would we start if we know _nothing _about him?"

They all turned to Chris, who shrugged and said, "Hey, I don't know anything either,"

At that exact moment, a darklighter shimmered into the attic, preparing to fire an arrow at Chris, who froze in shock.

"Get out of the way!" Paige yelled, shoving Chris to the ground. The arrow just barely missed her and struck the wall.

Piper flicked her hands, causing the demon to explode.

"Why didn't you orb?" Piper demanded.

"O-orb?" Chris asked, shaking. "Was-was that a _demon_?"

Paige nodded, helping the whitelighter up. He shook her off, backing away slowly, almost stumbling over a trunk.

They could all see the fear on his face.

"Chris . . ." Piper called, but he just kept on shaking his head.

"St-stay away from me!" he cried before suddenly orbing out.

Cursing loudly, Paige strode over to where the darklighter arrow was still lodged into the wall. Careful not to touch the whitelighter poison, she removed something that was attached to the arrow.

"What does it say?" Leo asked, curious.

Paige unrolled the piece of paper quickly, reading in a clear voice, "'Chris, you can't hide anymore. I will find you, and when I do, you will pay a price for your betrayal.'"

Phoebe snorted. "How cliché."

But Piper felt worried. "That darklighter must have been sent by Wyatt from the future."

Leo was also unnerved by the message. "God, this just makes things worse. _We _have no idea what future Wyatt could be planning, and right now, neither does Chris." His expression darkened. "Unless Chris has been working with someone in this time to hurt Wyatt, or you girls."

Phoebe shook her head. "I don't think so. I know you don't like him, Leo; but I think he's for real. But right now, that doesn't matter. The most important thing is to find Chris and get his memories back. _Then _we can deal with this."

The sisters nodded in agreement. Paige took out the scrying materials. "Then we'd better find him."

* * *

Chris sat beneath a stone statue, trying to remember why he wanted to come here. Here, his mind was clear. The air was fresh, the winds quiet. He leaned his forehead against the cool stone, letting the crazed jumble of thoughts in his mind subside. 

He struggled to remember. Obviously this place had some sort of a sentimental value to him. Looking at the Golden Gate Bridge fondly, he remembered a distant, weak string of words.

_This is still our spot, Bianca, no matter what he's done to it. _

Who was Bianca? Who was "he"? What the hell is a whitelighter? Those self titled witches never answered his question. He knew he could somehow "orb" as they called it. That meant he was magical too.

He put his face in his hands, tempted to tear his mop of brown hair out in anguish. Chris hated this, being ignorant, being unable to comprehend what was happening.

This place brought memories, mostly happy and serene. The trees' branches billowed in the wind, the sky bright and blue. From absorbing the beautiful landscape, from the feeling of _love_ this place emitted, Chris felt himself slowly calming down. He didn't trust those people, but they were all he knew. All he had.

Chimes rang through the air, breaking the silence.

"Chris? Are you ready to come back?" Piper's soft, motherly voice asked him gently. To Chris's relief, the man, Leo, wasn't there with her. Instead, it was Paige.

Hesitating for a moment, staring straight into Piper's familiar eyes, he nodded his head slowly, getting up from the bench. He would have to trust them. For now.

Together, they orbed back to the Manor, a feeling of dread welling up in Chris's heart as he returned to the place that had caused him so much pain.


	2. Leo Issues

Wow. Thank you all _so _much for the wonderful reviews! The end of this week has been kind of crappy, but because of all the support for the story, it had a happy note too, so thanks! This is the most reviews I've ever gotten for one single chapter, and I owe it all to you guys. This is a quick update for me; the other chapters may not come as quickly since I'm probably going to be _swamped _in the coming months.

**Lark: **Yeah, I hate Mary Sues too. Although I am guilty of writing one as my very first story here. Just wondering, what's Virtual Chocolate Bribes?

**Twisted Flame: **Thanks for the compliment! It means a lot since I really love your stories. Hope I can write up to the expectations.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chris couldn't believe it. 

_He was dead. _

Apparently. That's what Paige's explanation of a "whitelighter" was. They were basically angels, good beings who died and were called to a greater duty. Chris certainty didn't _feel _dead. He felt alive, and more confused than ever. Obviously magic existed, unless he was somehow being hypnotized or something. But everything–the fact that demons exist, that he's an angel, that the three sisters were witches . . . it was all a little much to digest.

That and the fact that he is from the future, here to stop an evil tyrant who is now staring innocently at him in a playpen, wearing little ducky pajamas.

If the situation wasn't very real and serious, it would have been laughable.

"Wow. You guys have a really bad deal." Chris commented again, still feeling overwhelmed at all this new information.

Paige waved it aside. "Yeah, well . . . there are benefits too, I guess. I mean, seriously, how many people can use magic? Do you know how much gas money I save from being able to orb around to places instead of driving? _And _I could go to, like, _France _in a few seconds."

"So . . . are you dead too?" Chris asked slowly.

"Naw. I'm half-witch, half-whitelighter, so I get the orbing, but not the dead part."

Chris stared at her, looking slightly wary of her cheerful tone. "Right."

He addressed his attention at the other sister, who's constant touching of him was getting really, _really _irritating. Whipping his head around angrily, Chris asked with as much venom in his voice as he could, "Do you mind?"

Phoebe grinned sheepishly at him. "Sorry. Just trying to get a premonition."

"A what?"

"Premonition. The ability to see the future. I'm just trying to see if I can see anything in your future that can show us any place familiar to you so we can jolt your memory back."

Chris sank deeper into the couch. "This sucks,"

"No kidding," Paige shot back sarcastically.

Throwing an annoyed glare at her, he retorted, "Hey, you're not the one who can't remember your own name."

Phoebe chuckled. "Do you think he's been spending time around us too much? I swear that glare he just sent you was _exactly _like Piper's."

Chris stared at her curiously, again that nagging feeling of familiarity bothering him.

His musings was distracted by a yelp from Phoebe.

"Shit! I'm going to be late! Bye!"

Paige waved at her sister's retreating back. "Bye?" The witch-whitelighter glanced at her watch. "Oh . . . whoops, I was supposed to help Piper experiment with that memory restoration potion . . . just rest up or something. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen!"

Chris didn't feel like resting up. This house, this place, it all felt extremely familiar to him. He walked over to Wyatt, their eyes locking for a moment. Nothing about the kid looked evil or even a bit tyrannical. Wyatt continued to stare at him with his bright, inquisitive blue eyes, his face suddenly erupting into a smile.

Slowly steadying himself, Wyatt hobbled over to the other side of the playpen, grabbing a soft, blue ball and offering it to Chris. Smiling despite himself, Chris accepted it.

But it seems that Wyatt changed his mind, because the ball was suddenly orbed out of Chris's fingertips and into Wyatt's hands, who clapped cheerfully.

Letting Wyatt entertain himself with the ball, Chris's mind wandered for a moment, to one of the many mysteries that have plagued his mind non stop.

Leo. Why did he feel such a strong sense of _hatred _for the man? All things considered, how did he even know him? This whole time travel thing was really giving Chris a massive headache.

Suddenly, to Chris's displeasure, the man himself orbed in.

"What are you doing here?" Chris demanded coldly.

Leo ignored him and picked up Wyatt. "How are you doing buddy?" His son smiled happily, giggling as Leo kissed his nose.

Thoroughly annoyed at being ignored, Chris stalked out of the room. When he had just reached the end of the hallway, yet another loud explosion could be heard. A protective instinct took over and Chris raced back to the attic.

There, Leo was knocked unconscious on the ground, and the demon was furiously stabbing at a blue shield over Wyatt, who was crying loudly, his face red and scared. Chris, staring at his hands, unsure what to do, looked around rapidly for any kind of weapon.

He couldn't help but feel disgusted looking at Leo, useless once again.

_Again?_

Chris threw those emotions aside. Suddenly, he decided to do something extremely reckless and possibly stupid. He charged at the demon, praying one of the sisters would hear the noise and kill the demon.

Leaping onto the demon from behind, Chris placed his hands around the demon's neck, squeezing certain pressure points. The demon let out a choked sound and attempted to throw Chris off.

"Chris!" Piper's commanding voice yelled from the doorway, "Get off him so I can have a clear shot!"

Chris did as he was told and slid off the demon, pushing himself as far away from the demon as possible.

With just a mere flick of her fingers, Piper blew the demon up.

Wyatt, still bawling, was picked up by Piper, who was trying to calm him down in a soothing voice.

Meanwhile, Paige kneeled down next to Leo. "Hey!" she called to him, shaking his shoulders.

Leo groaned and suddenly sat up, his eyes averting suddenly. "Where's Wyatt?"

"Right here," Piper answered, finally able to calm her son down.

Leo sighed in relief. "I'm so sorry, Piper, I didn't even see him coming . . ."

"Damn right you should be sorry!" Chris erupted suddenly.

"Chris . . ." Piper said warningly.

Chris glared at him, getting up to his feet. "Where the hell were you when the demon was trying to kill Wyatt?"

Leo too got to his feet, his expression livid. The corner of his mouth was tight, and his eyes blazed with anger. "I was unconscious. And don't you dare lecture me about parenting skills. After all, how are we to know if _you _intend on hurting Wyatt?"

"Stop it, you two!" Piper scolded, worry evident on her face. But neither acknowledged her.

"God, you're so freaking _arrogant. _You know what? You're as arrogant as you are useless. Actually, you're as arrogant as you are acrappy father . . ."

_Slap. _

Chris recoiled, holding one hand on his stinging cheek, stunned. Suddenly, he staggered backwards, his eyes closed shut as something rushed through his head painfully.

He was no longer in the room with the rest of them. Instead, Chris was in Wyatt's room, watching the three sisters' arms linked, strutting out of the room with victorious smiles on their faces. It was a recent memory, that's for sure, here, in Chris's past/present.

Chris smiled at the sight of the sisters happy, and spread his arms wide. "It looks like we're one big happy family again!"

His turned around to who he was speaking to. Leo.

Leo merely stared at him coldly, a small, amused smile on his lips. His reply was laced with ice.

"You're not family." He locked eyes with Chris's stunned green eyes indifferently for a moment, then walked away to join his wife and sister-in-laws.

Leo Wyatt had not physically slapped him in that moment, but with the impact that one statement made, Chris wished he actually had slapped him instead of saying those few, cruel words.

Then the memory was gone and Chris was back in the present, Paige's worried eyes filling up his vision. "Hey, you okay?"

"No," he snapped viciously before apologizing, "Sorry, it's just . . . flashback."

Piper and Paige exchanged glances. "Your memory's coming back?"

"Just . . . flashes of it," Chris ended lamely.

"Well, at least that's something. What'd you see?" Piper asked innocently.

Chris glared at her. "You know I can't tell you that. Future–"

"–consequences, yeah, we know," Piper ended dryly. "Even with your memory gone, you're still sticking with your shtick, aren't you?"

Chris grinned. "Yup."

The moment was broken by Wyatt's whimpers.

"Aw, are you tired?" Piper cooed. "Let's go take you to bed."

Piper paused at the door, sending an intimidating glare at both her husband and whitelighter, "As for you two, go sort out whatever issues you have. And don't break anything!"

* * *

"You know, you don't have to listen to Piper," Chris whined. He and Leo were both sitting in the attic together against their will. Leo seemed to be uncomfortable, but determined all the same. 

Leo shrugged and leaned back into the chair. "Piper will give us an earful if we don't try at the very least."

Chris scoffed. "Please. Like you really want to_ try._"

Leo's eyes were hard and cold. Obviously, he didn't take to Chris's sarcasm. "I do have questions, which you no doubt have perfectly constructed lies to, but seeing as you have no memory, I can't get anything useful."

Each word Leo uttered only intensified Chris's hatred for the man. He snapped.

"Fine then. I guess I'll ask _you _the questions." He paused for dramatic effect. "Why do you hate me? More importantly, why do _I _hate you?"

Leo's eyes locked with Chris's. "You sent me to Valhalla, my own personal hell, lied and manipulated us all, and are most likely planning to hurt my son. As for you hating me . . ." he leaned in closer, his blue eyes intense, "you tell me."

Suddenly, Chris clutched his head in pain again.

_Not again!_

This time, Chris was a little kid, only eight. He was wearing a pointed, cone shaped hat that said "Birthday Boy" on it. There were several opened presents around him, and a hell of a lot of wrapping paper. But what little Chris was focused on was a single envelope, clutched tightly in his hand.

Careful not to cut himself, Chris opened the envelope. He gingerly took the card out, which had angels on the front cover. Carefully opening the card, he read the words bitterly,

_Dear Chris,_

_I'm sorry I wasn't able to make your birthday party this year. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Hope it was fun. I love you very much, Chris. Happy Birthday!_

_Love, Dad. _

Chris closed the letter shut with unnecessary force, causing a wrinkle in the paper. He bit his quivering lip, absolutely devastated.

_I'll make it up to you, I promise. _

That's exactly what his father had said last year, the year before that, _and _the year before _that._

Chris shook his head vigorously, bringing himself back into the present. His palms felt clammy, and he was sweating a little.

Suddenly, both Leo and Chris felt a strange, _magical _sensation spreading through them.

The hate Chris was feeling suddenly intensified tenfold, and he could see it in Leo's eyes too. He stood up suddenly, the anger taking over, devouring him and every other feeling.

"You son of a–" But Chris couldn't finish his sentence, because Leo immediately tackled him.

Chris's chair toppled over as he was propelled backwards. Leo, fury contorting his face, raised his arm and connected his fist with Chris's face.

Groaning from attack, feeling the blood flowing freely from his nose, Chris only felt more infuriated.

Screaming in hatred, he kneed Leo's abdomen, causing the older man to recoil in pain and giving Chris a chance to push Leo off him.

But just as Chris started to recover, Leo grabbed his legs from under him and Chris fell to the floor with a heavy _thump._

Leo smiled sinisterly, the spell cast on him having fully taken affect.

Chris really didn't like that smile, and decided to wipe it off his face. But after he landed the blow on Leo's face, the grin was still plastered on.

_Uh-oh. _

* * *

Meanwhile, down in the kitchen, Paige winced as she heard the muffled thumping from above them. 

"Don't you think we should go up and, uh, check on them?" Paige suggested.

"Why?" Piper asked distractedly, fussing around the kitchen, "They need to work out their differences."

Paige stared worriedly through the floorboards. "Yeah, but . . . it sounds kind of loud up there."

Her older sister sighed. "I guess you're right. Let's–"

An even _louder _thump caused Piper to jump reflexively, and the sound of screams solidified her resolve.

"Orb! Now!" she barked at Paige urgently.

* * *

Chris was in agony. He could feel every single individual shock pulsing from Leo's fingertips through his body. 

The excruciating pain didn't leave for much thought, but one thought did manage to form itself in Chris's mind:

_Can someone who's already dead die again?_

Leo was sending out blue thunderbolts from his hands, directed towards Chris with a sick, twisted smile on his face.

_God, I'm going to die, _again.

He hated him. He hated Leo's smile, he hated his helplessness against him.

_Someone help . . ._

"Oh my god, Leo!" A woman's voice shrieked out in shock.

Chris sighed in relief as the pain went away, as his electrocution ceased. He crumpled to the ground in exhaustion; too beat down to notice his fatal wounds. He could feel himself slipping away, everything becoming darker and darker . . .

"Leo, what the hell were you thinking?" Piper demanded, disgusted and confused by her husband's violent, uncharacteristic behavior. "Heal Chris right now!"

But her husband's expression remained defiant, and he answered simply, "No."

Piper stared at Leo with disbelief. "Leo! You can't just let him _die_!"

"Oh, I think I can," Leo answered casually.

"Leo!" Piper raised her hands warningly, "Don't make me blow you up again."

But he merely smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

Piper made good with her threat and flicked her hands, turning Leo into a swirl of blue orbs.

"We've got to do something," Paige urged Piper, examining Chris; "He's been beat up pretty bad."

Piper was panicking. There was no way they were going to let Chris die, not before they saved Wyatt, not before they finally solve the mystery to his identity.

All she knew was that she _couldn't _let Chris die, not like this.

"A spell," Piper said suddenly, urgently grabbing a pad of paper and a pencil. "We've got to write a spell,"

"Ok," Paige tried to think fast. After a few scrambled moments of attempts at rhyming, they began to chant, praying that it would work:

_We call upon the Halliwell power_

_That this incident won't turn sour_

_For Chris please use the power to heal_

_Allow him once again to feel_

Golden lights, much like the ones that emitted from a whitelighter's hands, surrounded Chris, engulfing him in it, until it finally faded. He was healed.

"It worked!" Piper sighed in relief.

Then she frowned. There was obviously more going on here than she originally thought. Piper turned to face her husband, her expression betraying her worry about him.

But before Piper could say anything, Chris spoke up, _true_ hatred blazing in his bright green eyes.

"You–_bastard_!" he sputtered out, almost unable to form words. What he was feeling now was beyond loathing, it was pure, simple, hatred.

Leo's eyes widened at the natural hatred Chris was shooting his way. This was not spell induced; it was the real thing. In that moment of shock, Leo could feel the uncontrollable anger leaving him.

"Oh my god, Chris, I'm so sorry," Leo stuttered, completely stunned and horrified at what he had just done. He didn't like Chris, nor did he trust his motives but Leo is not a killer; at least, not in cold blood like that was.

But his apology was lost on the whitelighter. In fact, it only made Chris hate him more.

"You actually think . . ." Chris trailed off, practically spitting out his words. He shook Paige's arm off him and orbed out, his eyes still boring into Leo's.

Leo watched Chris orb away, then collapsed onto a nearby chair.

Piper leaned down next to her husband. "Leo . . . why did you try to kill Chris?"

He didn't answer for a minute. When Leo finally spoke, it was in a soft voice, "I think whoever's turning Wyatt is going to do it very soon. This . . . it's all a distraction from our son."

Piper was quiet. "You didn't answer my question, Leo."

"I–I think someone cast a spell on both of us, to make us fight each other,"

Nodding slowly, Piper wrapped her arms around Leo tenderly. "You know, I still think I'm right. You're going to have to resolve whatever problems you guys have . . . without trying to kill each other in the process."

Leo didn't answer, he just stared ahead, the memory of what he just did replaying in his mind over and over again, haunting him.

* * *

Chris sat on the Golden Gate Bridge, his eyes closed, his ears appreciating the silence of the place, with nothing but the wind's soft, cold breeze caressing him. 

Damn. He tried to trust them, he really did. He must have done something really bad to Leo.

But Chris seriously doubted it was so bad that Leo felt he needed to kill him.

Something was wrong, that he knew. Just the suddenness of it all, made it seem demonic or whatever.

Right now, Chris could care less about demons, witches, and angels. All he wanted to do now was to forget what just happened, forget the feeling of being electrocuted to death.

He wanted to forget that strange, familiar feeling of betrayal.

What Chris didn't know was that someone was watching him. Someone he knew, but didn't know. Someone who had a small smirk on their face as they watched Chris's inner turmoil, relishing in it.

Someone who, at that moment, was proceeding to the next phase of the plan.


	3. Deception

Thanks for the reviews! Happy Easter, enjoy the extra long chapter!

* * *

"Chris!" 

Piper paused for a moment, giving the whitelighter time to make his appearance. Tapping her foot impatiently on the hardwood floor of the attic, she called him again, this time with obvious irritation.

"_Chris!"_

He finally orbed in, slowly and reluctantly. Once his orbs fully materialized into his form, Chris stumbled and fell to the side, almost crashing into the table and knocking down Piper's newly made potions.

Scolding Chris with a glare, Piper grabbed onto his arm and helped to pick him up. "Why didn't you come before?"

Feeling slightly lightheaded, Chris took a few seconds for the nausea to subside before answering coolly, "Didn't hear you."

"You put me on _mute?_" Piper demanded incredulously, her hands now planted firmly on her hips.

Chris blinked, surprised, an inspired smile curling on his lips. "I can put you on mute?"

Piper smirked triumphantly. "So you _did _hear me!"

"Yeah, well . . ." Chris trailed off sheepishly, shuffling his feet in embarrassment. He frowned and changed the subject. "Are you always this impatient and bossy?"

"Eh, blame the hormones."

Smiling despite himself, Chris gestured to the vials on the table. "What are those for?"

"Those," Piper began, shoving a vial into his hand, "are potions. For whatever demon is after you."

Chris shifted his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable. "You . . . want me to fight a demon? Aren't I an angel? And aren't angels supposed to be pacifists or something?"

"No!" Piper wrinkled her nose, "Not fight, just throw. Throwing a potion isn't that hard. But I also need to you grab Phoebe and Paige. I called their cell phones, but neither of them have been picking up. Can you get them?" Before Chris could utter a word of confirmation, the eldest Halliwell sister turned her back to him and started to pen out a spell.

Chris stood there, confused, his eyes glancing around the room, inhaling the nice, familiar wooden smell of the attic, watching the sunlight shining through the stained glass window, all the while musing on how peaceful this attic made him feel, despite all the constant demon attacks and the confusion of not knowing his identity.

His musings were interrupted by Piper's sharp voice. "You're still here?"

"How do I know where they are?" Chris asked as realization dawned on Piper's face.

Smiling apologetically, Piper replied, "Sorry, I forgot that you don't remember. Um, I guess you could just sense them."

"How?"

Piper shrugged. "I don't know. Concentrate on them, maybe? Ask Leo, he knows how." She stopped rigidly, suddenly realizing what she'd just said. "I'm sorry, Chris!"

"It's fine," Chris said stiffly, his green eyes hardening at the mention of Leo's name. Trying to distract himself, he decided to try and concentrate on locating Phoebe and Paige. Scrunching his nose and eyebrows together, he concentrated hard on the two, thinking of their faces and names until they became clear pictures in his mind.

"You got it?" Piper asked gently, attempting to make up for her slip a minute before.

Chris nodded uncertainly. "I think so . . . how do I get there?"

Piper hesitated, her lips pursed in thought. She didn't know; she wasn't a whitelighter. The only advice she had for Chris was, "Wing it."

_That really doesn't help._ Chris thought dryly, but decided to try it out. He orbed, concentrating hard to Paige, and felt himself pulled in her direction.

When he arrived at Paige's location, Chris thought his eyesight had gone hazy for a moment before he realized that the windows were closed, and the curtains draped. His eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, he was able to make out two figures moving rapidly in what looked like a King's size bed.

"Oh god," he exclaimed in disgust, "I really don't need to see this."

Paige's head shot up suddenly, staring in shock at Chris. "Wh–A–What are you doing here?"

"Piper told me to get you." Chris explained, his face still scrunched up in revulsion.

Sinking under the covers in embarrassment, Paige managed to stutter, "Go. I'll orb myself."

Chris nodded rapidly, agreeing wholeheartedly with this plan before orbing out to get Phoebe.

Paige glanced over mournfully at Richard. "Sorry,"

"It's alright. Go to your sisters." Richard encouraged with a warm smile, hiding the disappointment from his face.

"Thanks," Paige said before giving him a last kiss.

Meanwhile, Chris orbed in search of Phoebe, only to find her immersed in her work at the office.

"Phoebe!" he called. She raised a pointed finger at him, telling him to wait, before typing out the final sentence of her column.

Taking off her glasses, she looked up at the whitelighter in concern. "What is it, Chris? Is something wrong?"

Phoebe had done her best to try and be kind to the whitelighter in light of him losing his memory and getting the crap kicked out of him by Leo.

She could have smacked herself. "_Getting the crap kicked out of him by Leo._"What kind of thinking was that? She hated how cruel and unconcerned she had just sounded. It's just that she was so stressed lately, with breaking up with Jason, to Chris losing his memory, to protecting Wyatt, and Leo's behavior, as well as her work as an advice columnist.

"Piper's going to kill a demon." Chris informed her briskly, although Phoebe did catch that slightly uncertain tone when he had said "demon". It looks like, despite everything he's seen, Chris was still wary of them. Not that Phoebe could blame him.

"Vanquish."

Chris looked up at her, confused. "What?"

"_Vanquish_ a demon. Gotta get the vocabulary right, right?" Phoebe said brightly, sounding far too cheerful. Chris just continued to stare at her, his eyes haunted. "You ready?"

Sighing loudly, Phoebe gave up. "Yeah. Just let me get this out to Elise."

Chris nodded and sat down on the couch in her office, waiting for Phoebe to come back. When she did, they orbed out together.

"All right, let's get this show on the road," Piper said briskly, slapping Paige's arm, who flinched at suddenly being woken up.

"I was _sleeping_." Paige moaned, resting her head back on the table.

Piper frowned at her youngest sister. "And why are you so tired?"

"You don't wanna know," Both Paige and Chris replied, only to shoot embarrassed looks at each other. Chris couldn't help but wonder if this is the kind of stuff that he has to deal with every day. No wonder he was so neurotic.

Chris tried to regain his ground, neutralizing his expression and asking, "So . . . how do you, uh, _vanquish_ demons?" he asked, sending a significant glance at Phoebe, who gave him a thumbs up.

"Oh, there are a lot of ways," Piper replied idly, handing out potions to her sisters.

Paige looked up, counting the possible ways off on her fingers. "There are potions, spells, swords, athames, beheading, witch powers, and stuff."

"Right." Chris said uncertainty, clutching the potion in his hand even more tightly. It seemed to him that this little frail vial was the only barrier between him and a very painful death. Wait, he forgot. Chris was already dead.

_This is driving me crazy . . ._

Piper smiled sympathetically at the whitelighter, even though she couldn't help but feel a distinct guilty pleasure of _them _being the one holding all the cards and _him _being the confused one left in the dark for once.

"This message," Piper explained, pointing to the letter "was written in blood. We can use it to scry and summon the demon that wrote it. Granted, it could be a trap, which is why we are prepared for anything."

But Phoebe didn't look so sure. "Shouldn't we find out more about this demon before summoning it?"

Piper hesitated for a moment, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. "Yeah . . . but the only way we'll know more about the demon is if it attacks again, and I don't think we can risk that. We might as well get rid of him now."

The two younger sisters glanced at each other and shrugged.

"We could also capture him and question him," Chris suggested, trying to sound helpful.

"Good idea," Paige nodded "Let's go with that."

Handing her sisters the spells Piper had been working on; she gave them some time to look it over. Noticing Chris's nervous shuffling, she strode over to him. "You okay?"

"You've got them here now, right? So you don't need me anymore . . ." Chris trailed off, starting his retreat down the stairs.

"Hold on, mister," Piper snapped, grabbing the back of his shirt, "You never had any problem sending _us _on demon hunts, so you're sure as hell are going to be here for the vanquish of the demon _who is after you_."

Chris rolled his eyes, hiding his fear with deep edged sarcasm. "Yes _mother._" He blinked, confused. It had come out so easily and fluently. The sisters must have been right; he _was _a neurotic, sarcastic whitelighter.

"All right, people, let's go,"

Holding onto the bloody message with one hand, and the summoning spell in the other, the Charmed Ones began to chant:

_Demon with origins and motives not yet come to light  
__Come hither so that we can fight  
__By our word, by our spell  
__Slither out of your hiding place in hell_

"Not bad," Phoebe critiqued, "But the last couple lines didn't really flow well. And you should invoke the Power of Three, just in case it's an upper level demon–"

"Don't need complaining right now, thank you very much," Piper interrupted through clenched teeth.

Phoebe didn't have time to shoot back a retort, for a demon came twisting and moaning from the depths.

First, the eldest Halliwell sister tried to blow the demon up, merely sending him backwards into the wall.

"Damn, there's another dent," Paige mumbled, throwing her potions at him in rapid succession.

"It's not working Piper!" Phoebe called out.

After she had run out of potions, Paige called out, "Crystals!" which orbed out in blue sparkles from the trunk and into the air around them. "Circle!"

The crystals positioned themselves around the demon, trapping him in a void of Good magic.

"Let's start with the basics," Paige began, staring the demon right in the eye, her posture and smile confident, "Who the hell are you?"

The demon glared at them. "Shouldn't you know? _You _summoned me, after all." He surveyed his surroundings, his black eyes resting on Chris.

He smirked. "Having fun, Christopher?"

Chris involuntarily recoiled two steps backwards, shocked at the familiarity the demon was presenting him.

"Do you know him?" Paige asked, her eyes locked on the whitelighter's, which were clouded with confusion.

He turned to his charge, shaking his head vigorously. "I don't–I don't know."

The demon merely smiled. "Don't you remember?" he taunted Chris, his coal black eyes flashing ominously.

'_Remember the day she died?'_

Chris jerked involuntarily. The demon's voice boomed in his head, sharper and clearer than if he was speaking to him with his voice.

Suddenly, as the demon's cold eyes burned into his, Chris could almost feel himself shrinking in his fiery gaze, a familiar chill of fear creeping up his spine.

He remembered.

This time, the memory was hazy and blurred, unlike his previous flashbacks. Spots of darkness intertwined with light, the grey, still world shattered with the strangely loud and shrill sound of a door hinge bending.

A small figure was thrown in, a teenage girl. Chris, though surprised at the suddenness of it all, caught her. He was shocked to see the black eye, swollen shut, and the bruises on her skinny frame.

Chris's exhaustion evaporated instantly, replaced with a fierce rage for the one who had done this to his youngest cousin.

"Penelope," he whispered, "Pen. Wake up."

She opened one eye reluctantly, as if afraid of what she'd see.

"C-Chris?"

"Yeah."

But before he could offer comforting words, anything, the door swung open even wider, but the figure remained in the shadows, cloaked by the haze.

"I'm sorry Chris," the male voice said, sarcasm dripping in every syllable spoken. Chris couldn't see the man's eyes, but he could feel the man's heated gaze on him, "The girl's been far too much trouble for my Master. See, demons are talking. We can't have them thinking my Master weak and forgiving, can we? Think of it this way; she brought it on herself by defying him. Unfortunately, I'll have to make her death slow, but at least she'll end up being with her dead mother . . ."

Chris's green eyes blazed in anger, now pushing Penelope protectively behind him. "What the hell are you talking about? You're not allowed to hurt us."

The shadows were still for a moment; not even a breath could be heard.

"This is an exception; at least, that's what my Master said." There was a pause, and Chris could almost feel the cruel smile that he was sure was making its way onto the man's face.

Before Chris could even flinch, he heard a faint choking sound behind him. Alarmed, he turned around sharply to see Penelope clutching at her throat, no audible sound coming from her. Her eyes bulged, and she was suddenly sent violently crashing back into the stone wall, bits of rubble crumbling down from the ceiling.

"NO!" Chris shouted, flinging his arm out at their captor. He stared at his hands uselessly when nothing happened.

"Your powers are bound, Christopher, you can't stop this."

But it didn't stop him from trying. Chris, the desire to save his cousin, an innocent, drove him to charge straight on at the man, only to be thrown into a wall with the flick of a finger.

"It's too late."

Chris scrambled over to his cousin, who was now slumped down against the wall, her eyes wide open, the shine gone from them, leaving nothing but the dull blankness of death.

"No . . . no . . . NO!" Chris sobbed, shaking Penelope fiercely, as if trying to shake her soul back into her body. Seeing his cousin dead . . . he couldn't believe it.

There was a chuckle in the doorway, a chuckle that progressed into a fit of sinister laughter, so cold and casual, as if Penelope's death meant nothing.

He stepped out of the shadows, and even though Chris's eyes were blurred with tears, he could see the figure clearly.

It was the demon with coal black eyes.

"No . . ." Chris muttered, holding his head in emotional and physical pain as the memory ended, still reeling from the heart breaking loss that still echoed in his heart.

The demon smirked, his own mind veering back to that sweet, satisfying moment in his demonic career. It was a major highpoint in the future; the killing of one of the most powerful creatures on the planet, a mixture of a whitelighter and a witch-whitelighter, although the girl was more angel than witch, given the fact that both of her parents had whitelighter blood in them.

He had to admit; he _was _surprised when Lord Wyatt gave him the order to kill his cousin. Wyatt had always been strict about not hurting any of his kin. Naturally, Lord Wyatt was the only one allowed to discipline his brother and cousins.

Lips curling cruelly, he reminisced back to when he had disciplined the girl. He was supposed to have made it quick and swift, but the demon simply could not resist the addicting fear in the girl's eyes, even taking the torture further than instructed . . .

And now he had been instructed to help deliver a message, written in his own blood, making him a clear target for the Charmed Ones.

It was his punishment for not stopping Christopher from escaping to the past, as well as for his disobedience in the girl's case. Lord Wyatt had been furious when he discovered what the demon had done to his cousin.

Ironic, really, since Wyatt had been the one who ordered her execution.

"Kill him, _please._" Chris hissed through clenched teeth, hatred blazing clearly in his green eyes. His balled fists shook with anger; it took every single shred of self control to prevent him from flinging himself onto the crystal barrier and tearing the demon apart with his bare hands.

Right now, his mind wasn't on the fact that in the memory he had powers, like a witch would.

"We have to find out what he knows, Chris, and why he's after you first." Phoebe said gently, putting a quelling hand on his shoulder, feeling the boy shaking underneath her fingertips.

_That flashback must have had one hell of a punch._

"Not likely."

Their heads whipped around to the demon, who was chuckling darkly.

"I may be condemned, but I am sure as hell not going to be vanquished by the Charmed Ones." He raised his eyes to the heavens, shouting maniacally, "Do you see now? Do you see my loyalty? Damn it, I promise you, this mistake will be one of many! You'll regret this, the boy will be your downfall, and I'll watch your death and laugh from my personal suite in hell!"

Taking an athame out of his shoe, his eyes boring into Chris's, the demon plunged the athame into his chest, and the Charmed Ones could do nothing but watch as he laughed at the flames engulfing him, incinerating him slowly until he became nothing but a pile of ash.

"I've never seen a demon do that," Paige said, her voice strained from shock.

"Seen a demon do what?"

Piper turned around at the familiar voice and saw Leo standing in the doorway, a content Wyatt sucking on his thumb, leaning his golden haired head against his father's shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Piper asked, glancing nervously at Chris, who had barely noticed Leo's arrival, still staring at the remaining ashes of the demon.

Leo shifted Wyatt into a more comfortable position first before explaining, "I heard Wyatt crying and nobody came to him, so I came."

"Oh," Piper exclaimed, feeling guilty. She had left the baby monitor downstairs in the kitchen and didn't take it up with her when she was bringing the potion ingredients up to the attic.

"So what happened?"

Paige took over the narration, explaining to Leo about summoning the demon, both the demon and Chris's weird behavior, and finally, the demon's suicide.

Leo had listened to Paige's story quietly, rocking Wyatt in his arms. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and he glanced quickly over at Chris, still immobile.

"Look, you guys had better talk to him. Getting select memories like that, probably tragic or really affecting in some way . . . we can't have him distracted."

Piper frowned. "Why do I feel like you're using us to find out about Chris and who he was? Or his agenda or whatever?"

Leo shifted his feet guiltily, looking into his wife's eyes. "I just want to make sure the threat to Wyatt isn't someone close to us, that's all. And Chris _does _have a lot of secrets."

Piper sighed and absently rubbed her pregnant belly. "Okay. Could you put Wyatt back in the playpen?"

"Thanks Piper."

Looking at her sisters, she asked, "Okay, so which one of us is talking to him? Phoebe? You're the empath."

"Paige's the whitelighter." Phoebe shot back.

"_Half_ whitelighter." Paige corrected. "I think Phoebe should do it. You're an advice columnist, this fits right into your shtick."

Piper smiled coyly. "Sorry Pheebs, two to one."

Phoebe scowled and mumbled something her sisters couldn't hear, but could probably guess what she was saying.

"Hey Chris," Phoebe greeted cautiously.

Chris's eyes flickered to meet hers for a split second, but other than that, he gave no acknowledgment.

"You know you can always talk to us, right?" Phoebe continued, "I mean, this is a lot to take in."

He looked down at his sneakers and didn't answer her. Phoebe waited, and he finally whispered to his shoes, "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me. 'Remember the day she died'? I know a lot about death. My mom died, my grams died, my _sister _died . . . there's been a lot of death in this family."

Chris sighed. He wanted to say something, he really did. It would take a whole load off of his shoulder, and it would be a sigh of relief. But he knew he couldn't. Something, some instinct imbedded inside of him, told him to keep this to himself.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I need to be alone,"

He orbed out, leaving Phoebe with no answers and even more questions.

* * *

The loud music was distracting, and that's exactly what he needed. Pushing his way past dancing bodies, Chris sat down at the bar of P3, watching everyone else's happiness, trying to forget his own troubles. 

A blonde haired bartender finished cleaning the glasses before asking, "Do you want anything from the bar?"

Chris shook his head silently, staring again at the masses.

"Uh . . . are you okay?"

Reluctantly, Chris forced himself to meet the eyes of the nosy bartender.

"Yes." He answered calmly, if not a bit too forcefully.

Putting his hands up in mock surrender, the bartender admitted. "I'm a bit nosy. Sorry about that. I read somewhere that bartenders are supposed to be like therapists or something." He grinned in good humor, kindness sparkling in his eyes, "I guess it's not true, or _you're _having a really shitty day."

Chris was surprised at the forwardness and honesty of the bartender.

_You don't see honest people that much in this world._ Chris realized.

"I'm Peter, by the way."

"Chris."

A smile tugged at Chris's lips when he heard Peter's name.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I just happen to know three sisters whose names all start with a P, so . . . oh god, I don't know why that's funny to me. Life is funny, I guess. And screwed."

Peter nodded his head, listening to this stranger, so young but so old at the same time, as if he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders.

* * *

"Uh, shouldn't we be trying to help the sisters restore their whitelighter's memory?" Sigmund asked, watching the Elder think out his next move. 

Gideon shook his head, his head bent over some ancient volume.

"No. This is actually quite convenient, actually."

Sigmund opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. He wasn't always this jittery around Gideon. But ever since he had first asked Sigmund for his help on his mission, Sigmund thought that the Elder had taken a radical, perhaps too radical, turn. Not that he'd ever say that to Gideon in person, lest he anger him enough to unleash his Elder powers on him.

Gideon always seemed to be on the breaking point lately. Despite the fact that Sigmund and Gideonwere old friends, Sigmund knew that Gideon was betraying Leo, another old friend by plotting to kill his son. He knew that Gideon, in his current state of mind, wouldn't hesistate to betray Sigmund as well if he felt it was for the greater good. Gideon looked so exhausted lately, using every moment of spare time trying to deflect the sisters from finding out that they were after Wyatt, and finding out a way to kill Wyatt.

Actually, Sigmund thought it was ironic, how the sisters were tired from trying to find out who turns Wyatt, and Gideon was exhausted from trying to figure out how to kill Wyatt. Personally, he found it immoral to kill a baby, but what could he say to Gideon?

_It's for the Greater Good. After all, we know now that Wyatt's evil in the future, right?_ Sigmund reassured himself. He felt a little better now.

Just a little.

"Convenient how?"

Gideon looked up from his tomes, speaking as if it were obvious.

"The sisters will be far too busy trying to get their whitelighter's memories back to worry about us too much." Gideon paused, knowing this must have been some gift from the Powers that Be, proof that Gideon was meant to kill Wyatt, "The ideal window to get Wyatt is coming up soon; we just have to sit tight and wait for it to come."


	4. Witch Whitelighter

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I'm sorry about the delay in updating –it's been pretty busy lately, so I haven't been able to get a lot of time for writing. Hopefully the chapter length makes up for it! Please review, it's helpful to hear your feedback.

* * *

Piper was worried. Well, according to Paige, she was _always _worried, but things have been truly screwed up lately, even by their standards. 

She also had this disturbing feeling lately that someone, or something, has been watching them. Piper always was slightly paranoid, trying to have a normal life but at the same time constantly watching her back, watching her child's back. It figures. All this damn trouble just _happens _to all collide together while she's pregnant. It just adds to the danger of it all. If anything happens to Piper, the child growing in her womb would . . . die. She could never let that happen. Piper already felt a connection, a closeness, to her baby, to Wyatt's little brother.

The baby kicked her again, _hard, _this time towards her kidneys. "Your brother never gave me this much trouble," she grumbled to her stomach.

"You look stressed out," Phoebe commented, smoothly striding into the room. "Stress isn't good for the baby. Remember what happened with Wyatt, with your blood pressure?"

Piper rolled her eyes. As if she would let anything happen to the baby. "I _know_, Phoebe."

But Phoebe kept on talking, not acknowledging her sister's answer, "Not that I can blame you though; there's so much crap going on lately, it's a wonder you haven't had a nervous breakdown or something."

Piper bristled indignantly, "I'm not a doll, Phoebe! And what are you talking about 'nervous breakdown'?"

Her sister shrugged. "_Well, _you have been really hormonal lately."

The eldest Halliwell sister eyed Phoebe suspiciously. "And _you've _been really snippy. What's up?"

Phoebe sighed. "It's Chris. It's just . . . you know how he's always been really, I don't know, _cold _and unattached? The fact that he's hiding something is obvious, and he doesn't lie about that. I guess it just bothered me to see him so . . . vulnerable. His eyes looked so haunted and sad, like he's afraid of something that we can't see. I'm scared, Piper. I never feel anything from him, but that fear was so _raw_ that I could feel the backwash. This threat is big, and he can't tell us anything. It might be future Wyatt, it might not . . ."

"Hey . . ." Piper, sisterly instincts taking over, put a comforting arm around her sister, and said, "We'll figure it out. We always do."

Phoebe nodded, but her gaze wandered to the world outside of the Manor's kitchen window, with people oblivious to magic, unafraid of demonic attacks, people who don't have to deal with neurotic whitelighters.

* * *

"What are you, a shrink now?" Chris asked, sarcasm dripping heavily in his tone. 

He couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. He tries to electrify Chris, and invades his privacy because he wants a session of "talking through our problems", so to speak. Ok, fine, maybe Leo was an Elder, and they're supposed to be all serene and pacifists and all. But from the impression he had gotten from Paige, most Elders were all jackasses, and in Chris's opinion, this label clearly included Piper's husband.

"I just . . . think that if we're going to work together to help the sisters beat whatever this evil is, we have to at least learn to be civil with each other." Leo defended. Chris was amazed at the arrogant causality in his voice.

"I thought you are supposed to be in Heaven or whatever," Chris spat back coldly, "And who are you to talk about being civil?"

Leo sighed. "Look, I know we got off at a rocky start –"

"Damn right." Chris muttered.

"–but if you want us to trust you, you have to give us a reason to."

Chris vaguely recalled a random memory about a cartoon called _Peanuts_, where the adults made a "wah, blah, wah" noise every time they spoke. That's exactly what Chris felt Leo was doing right now, speaking the language of bullshit.

"_Trust?_ You want to talk about trust?" Chris snarled, shooting daggers at Leo, who winced.

Leo sighed. He didn't know why he was even trying. The boy was far too stubborn. But he felt like he had to make things right somehow, despite the dislike he'd had for the whitelighter from the beginning. Leo hated it, the guilty knot that tore his insides. How could he loathe Chris one minute, and then seek forgiveness in the next? Maybe it was a collection of events, the recent event finally tipping him over the edge.

After all, he had left Piper and Wyatt for the Elders, almost caused them to lose Piper forever to the Valkryies, _and _left them again to raise yet another son alone? Not only that, but Piper obviously didn't feel that she could _tell _Leo that he had another child. He probably wouldn't find otherwise until the baby was long born if the sisters hadn't called him for Chris's amnesia. Leo didn't peek on the happenings on Earth that often, especially not in the Halliwell home, when he was Up There if he could help it.

It hurt too much to see all that he couldn't have. He didn't want to watch something that he used to possess, a love so pure and healing, and risk orbing down there to taste it again, to hold his son in his arms once more, only to have that feeling violently ripped away every time he had to go back to "Elder Land", as Piper called it.

Maybe, by attempting some form of peace with the rebellious, mysterious, whitelighter, some of that baggage would lessen, and maybe the guilt wouldn't hurt so much.

"I know you don't remember, but you've done things that made me want to kick your ass over and over again," Leo began, only to be interrupted by Chris.

"As if you could!" Chris interjected sarcastically, crossing his arms definitely. If magic didn't exist, and Leo didn't have all his stupid Elder powers, Chris was confident he'd win if they ever fought fairly.

A flustered look flittered across Leo's face for a second, and he sighed impatiently. "Let's just start over –for Wyatt's sake."

The last, sly comment may have cracked the old Chris, when he had all of his memories of his driven mission, but it had no effect whatsoever on the memory deprived Chris standing before him.

"Why should I care about that?" Chris shrugged casually. He knew the reason he came back to the past was important, stopping a great evil and all, but he couldn't _feel _the importance.

Chris couldn't comprehend the true reason, the urgency, of achieving his mission. Now, it was as if he was merely doing something he was preordained to do, something that served as nothing but a bothersome chore.

As much as he wanted to care about his quest –for that would be a clue as to not only his identity, but his soul –he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Leo knew that was his last card, playing on Chris's vigorous determination to supposedly save Wyatt, and it failed.

But he knew that, not only for his own self satisfaction, but for the love of his son, the need for Wyatt's safety, Leo would have to somehow get Chris's memories back. And to do that, he had to get him to cooperate with the sisters, something Chris seemed reluctant to do if Leo was in their presence.

"Obviously you do care . . . why else would you travel twenty years into the past, a world that you're a stranger to?"

Chris snorted. "You almost sounded angelic and wise there."

Knowing that it was a lost cause, Leo was still determined to restore Chris's memories –then get the truth out of him. Knowing that Chris would be pissed with this action, Leo waved an arm and orbed Chris by force back to the Manor, hearing Chris's distorted voice shouting, "Hey!" as he disappeared in heavenly lights. Leo sighed and followed the orbs, bracing himself for whatever reaction the whitelighter would have.

Leo orbed in to a heated glare coming from Chris, who had apparently landed ungracefully onto the carpet. Oops. The Elder could see the carefully contained rage bordering on explosion in Chris's eyes, which flashed angrily.

"I told you I didn't want to talk!" Chris yelled, his voice echoing in the Manor's hallway.

"What the hell are you yelling about?" Paige's concerned voice asked from the stairway, frozen in mid-motion of grabbing her purse.

Chris glared heatedly at Leo. "_Nothing._"

But by then they had an audience. Piper and Phoebe joined them from the kitchen, eyes glancing at the scene in confusion.

"Okay, what'd you both do this time?" Piper asked, throwing up her hands in frustration. Can the two _ever _get along for a second?

"_Leo _orbed me here –against my will." Chris answered quickly, beating Leo to the punch. As the Elder sighed and moved to help him off the floor, the whitelighter scowled, flinging his arm out angrily, telling Leo, "Forget it –"

Instead of merely warning Leo, the Elder was sent flying into the nearby wall with Chris's gesture.

Chris's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced down at his hands in disbelief. Can whitelighters send people flying with a flick of their hand?

Piper made a distinct choking sound in her throat, unable to form words. Phoebe stood in shocked silence beside her, while Paige silently moved over to help Leo up.

Chris got up slowly, standing to face the Halliwells, who read their shocked expressions as a sign that apparently meant that he _wasn't _supposed to be able to do that.

"How did you do that?" Leo asked, his voice unsteady. "Whitelighters don't have telekinesis."

"I –I don't know." Chris stuttered, not really sure what was going on. This whole thing was getting more complicated by the minute.

Leo took a few very large steps towards Chris, who took a few very large steps backwards, only to back into the wall, with nowhere else to go.

"So. You've been lying to us, _again._" Leo hissed, his eyes blazing with fury.

Chris could feel the sweat on his forehead. He glanced behind Leo, at the sisters, who all looked equally shocked, and . . . perhaps angry.

_Whatever happened to being civil?_

The supposedly pacifist Elder pinned Chris to the wall with one hand. Chris desperately wanted to fight back, but he felt so small and weak as Leo stared him down.

"You know, I wonder if you've even _really _lost your memory," Leo accused, "Maybe you know everything –this is all just a ploy to feel sorry for you, or distract us from something."

"No!" Chris shook his head vigorously, "I _did _lose my memory! I'm not lying!"

Leo examined Chris's scared expression. "Then why are you sweating?"

Chris stared back at Leo, in shock at the familiarity of that phrase. Once again, he was pulled into another memory.

_Leo and Chris were both in Valhalla, searching for Piper's whereabouts. Leo had just convincingly told the other bravehearts to leave, saying that he was going to question Chris, the "intruder", himself. _

_Chris was impressed that Leo could act so well. This was a side of Leo that Chris had never seen. He was always sort of a pushover. _

"_Gotta hand it to you, Leo, that was a pretty good act you had there, even had me believing it for a sec . . ." _

_But Leo closed the gate to the Gladiator cage behind him. Chris was confused, but he felt a sense of dread when he saw Leo's hard, serious eyes staring back at him, devoid of emotion. _

"_What are you doing?" Chris asked, trying to keep his voice steady. There was no way he was going to show fear in Leo's presence. No way. Leo didn't respond as he calmly picked up a sword and a shield off the ground._

"_Leo, what's going on?" He asked again, this time with uncontrollable panic at the edge of his voice. Why wasn't Leo answering him?_

_Finally, Leo spoke. "I'm going to get the truth out of you, once and for all. No sisters around to save you, no way out, not even orbing. Just you and me."_

_Chris took a few steps backwards, his heart beating faster with each step. "You're joking, right? I mean, we be getting back? You know, to fill in Phoebe and Paige? To find Piper?" _

_Leo hesitated, then replied, his tone icy and bitter, "I've already lost Piper." He tossed the shield and sword to a stunned Chris's feet. "Pick it up." _

"_This isn't funny, you know, and it's not very Elder like either." Chris answered sarcastically, trying to joke his way out of this. But, from the look on Leo's face, there was no way he could. _

"_Yeah, well, five weeks trapped in here fighting for my life changed me. A lot. Pick it up."_

_Chris shook his head. "Forget it."_

_But Leo swiftly picked up another sword and shield and charged Chris, screaming out a battle cry. Panicked, Chris was barely able to grab his sword and shield in time to block Leo's incoming attack. Leo kept on coming at him, with Chris just barely able to fend him off. _

"_I didn't do it!" Chris attempted to calm Leo's attacks, with no avail. With two well placed thrusts, Leo successfully knocked Chris's sword out of his hand. Chris cursed in his mind as he dove for his only protection against the crazy Elder. But as he spun back around, Leo was already there, the cold, sharp, metallic tip of his sword at Chris's throat. _

_Chris was sweating, fear overwhelming him. _Oh god, he's going to kill me. I can't die now, not before I save Wyatt! _He thought, his heart rate racing even faster. He could see Leo breathing hard as well, and Chris didn't dare move in case Leo really _did _slice his throat open. Maybe this was just to intimidate him. Maybe. _Oh god.

"_I'm a whitelighter, you can't kill me!" Chris informed him, praying to whatever forces were out there that Leo wouldn't try. _

"_No?" Leo asked, "Then why are you sweating?" _

Leo stared in confusion at the present Chris, still pinned to the wall. The liar's eyes had been glazed for the past few minutes, as if he was in a different world. But now, they were clear again, and he stared at Leo as if he at just noticed something about the Elder.

"I'm not a whitelighter." Chris whispered softly, almost to himself. The memory confirmed it. Whitelighters don't die. They're already dead.

"Obviously," Leo replied sarcastically, hearing his admittance. But the Elder was confused by the surprise in Chris's voice as he whispered it. He must have gotten another flashback.

_So maybe he is telling the truth about the amnesia, _Leo thought, grudgingly, _but he still lied about being a whitelighter. _

"So what are you, then?"

Chris and Leo turned to face Paige, who had walked over to them and had been the first sister to recover. "Are you . . . like me?"

"That's impossible," Leo disagreed, "It's already against the rules. I doubt the Elders would be okay with another witch-whitelighter union."

Paige scrutinized Chris carefully. "Do you know?"

Chris shook his head. "Sorry," he added for good measure. No need to infuriate them any further. He lowered his eyes timidly at the floor, a wave of shame overwhelming him.

"Get out."

They all turned to the new voice. Piper, her face slightly red, her hands shaking, repeated coldly, "Get out of my house."

Chris forced himself to look up into Piper's eyes, and recoiled at the fire in them, the hatred.

The disappointment.

"Get the _hell _out of my house!" Piper screamed, her anger vibrating off the Manor's walls.

Her resounding voice snapped Chris out of his shocked stupor. He muttered sadly, "I'm sorry," before orbing out.

"Wait –" Paige called out after him.

"_Wait?_ Wait for what, for him to hurt Wyatt?" Piper demanded incredulously, her eyes flashing angrily.

Paige shook her head vigorously, her own fiery eyes meeting her sister's. "_No. _Piper, the guy'sgotno memoryright now! Where is he supposed to go?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," The eldest Halliwell replied coldly, "Anywhere far away from here."

Phoebe was confused at Paige's defense of Chris. He had _lied _to them, pretended to be a real whitelighter. Sure, he could be like Paige, but for all they know, Chris could be a warlock!

As if she had read Phoebe's mind, Paige snapped, "Look, I don't think he's evil. A person is the sum of their experiences, and with of the experiences of the horrible future he came from stripped away, we saw the real Chris. And I don't know about you, but he didn't look evil to me."

"Yeah? Well that doesn't erase all the times he's manipulated you," Leo argued, his voice icy, "And it doesn't make up for him taking me away from my family."

"We should still give him a chance. He's vulnerable right now," Paige pleaded. This newest revelation about Chris's identity really clicked with her; she understood the confusion he was feeling right now. Paige thought she was just a regular girl for most of her life, only to find out just a couple of years ago that she was not only a powerful witch, but a _whitelighter _too.

If the future really was as chaotic as Chris implied it to be, then he must have had to manipulate things in order to survive. He had to learn to survive. If the future had been better, maybe Chris would be a different person. If Paige's parents had never died, if she hadn't felt the loss, who knows what she would have been today? She could have been some drunk or a druggie with no purpose in life, with no desire or ability to help anyone, or herself.

It had been their deaths that had broken through her, that guilt was what made her driven to change her ways and try to make them proud in death, to make something of her life.

But, as it seems, Chris's future had a more negative impact on him. Either way, Paige felt that Chris was good, and that he deserved another chance, just as she had.

"I'm going after him," Paige announced, glancing at each of her family members in the eye, "Seriously, you guys, just think about it."

Not having any more to say, Paige sensed for Chris and orbed in his direction.

* * *

_Am I evil? _Chris wondered miserably. They obviously thought so, with their negative reaction to him. Why did he lie so much? Why do they all _hate _him so much? There was so much distrust, so many secrets and hidden agendas. 

Chris didn't _feel _evil. But then, can you feel your own evilness? Does that even make any sense?

Then again, Chris didn't feel dead either when he discovered that he was a whitelighter. Wait. He wasn't a whitelighter. He was a _witch-whitelighter. _So most likely he was alive, like Paige. Most likely.

So how do you tell? Do you just . . . know? Because right now, Chris felt nothing but utterly confused and hurt. They had thrown him out, just like that, with no thought to it. Oh, well, maybe they were thinking angrily.

Chris winced as he recalled how angry Piper was. She was viciously protective of her kid. He felt so timid when she yelled at him, and he felt as if she had punched him in the gut. Her reaction had hurt him greatly, but he couldn't figure out why.

Caring about Piper's reaction, experiencing very human emotions, must be evidence that he's good, not evil, right?

He was interrupted from his musings at the sound of chimes beside him. Chris looked up to see Paige forming from blue orbs.

"How are you doing?" she asked him gently, her voice surprisingly soft.

"So you're not here to, um, vanquish me?" Chrisasked steadily and casually.His green eyes shyly met Paige's slowly, a mixture of undefined emotions expressed in them.

Paige shook her head. "No, honey, I'm not," she soothed. It felt very natural to her, but maybe it was just her social worker/Wyatt's aunt instinct kicking in.

Chris was confused. So what was the youngest Halliwell sister doing then? Coming to fetch him back? Somehow, Chris doubted Piper and Leo would forgive him so easily.

"Listen, they're still upset about finding out that you lied to them," Paige began.

"But I don't even remember _lying _to them!" Chris exploded suddenly, the indignation of how they were treating him bursting out of him.

Paige was amused. Even with this one emotional burst, he still didn't sound like the Chris Paige had met almost a year ago. The old Chris almost never showed emotion, other than annoyance and sarcasm. Paige never truly felt that the witch-whitelighter was ever truly honest with them. That one outburst felt more honest than anything he's ever said before.

"I know, Chris. Let's go back and we can talk about it,"

Chris raised an eyebrow skeptically. He's spent enough time with the Halliwells enough to be distrustful of how welcoming they'd be. "And get blown up? No thanks."

Paige rolled her eyes at Chris's natural sarcasm. Looks like memories or no memories, he was _always _going to be a smartass.

"C'mon," Paige encouraged, grabbing onto Chris's arm and orbing them both out.

"Paige." Piper growled as she saw her sister and the person she had locked tightly in her grip orb in.

Paige cut her sister off. "Piper, just give him another chance. Use your instincts. I think it'll be more helpful to have him around, for _Wyatt's _sake."

The eldest sister scrutinized Paige's determined expression. Piper could see that Paige believed what she was saying. Then she turned her attention on Chris, who was determinedly staring at his sneakers. Piper really hated Paige right now for pulling the "for Wyatt's sake" card.

_I must be going soft in my old age, _Piper thought dryly.

"Well, since he's clueless right now, we can't really have him wandering the streets," Piper admitted reluctantly, "He can stay for now."

Leo's eyes flickered over to him for a second, acceptance mixed with distrust reflecting in his expression. He was unsure, first hating Chris, then wanting his forgiveness, then distrusting him, only to be caught somewhere in the middle.

Phoebe, however, walked over to Chris and grabbed his arm, willing herself to get a premonition off him, something to help them decide whether or not to kick him out.

She gasped as sharp and clear images flooded her mind.

_It was a late, cloudy night. Only the dim lights of the street lamps provided any light to see by. A surprised yelp filled Chris's ears as he shot up ahead to meet up with the girl he had just been walking with a couple of minutes before. _

Darn it, I told her to wait, _Chris thought, though he knew Melinda could very well take care of herself. _

_He arrived to see Melinda struggling with a big, strong man with a knife in his hand. Melinda delivered a swift kick to his crotch, causing him to recoil in pain, giving her the opportunity to knock the blade out of the assailant's hands. She raised her leg gracefully over the assailant's head, sending it swiftly crashing down on his head, efficiently knocking him out cold. _

_Melinda dusted off her hands, grimacing at the splatters of blood on her hand –her own. _

"_It's okay, Chris," she reassured him, "I'm good. I was aching for a good workout today anyway." Melinda smiled, completely unfazed. Chris wasn't surprised though. She dealt with this kind of thing every day, although it was usually a different kind of villain. _

_Chris rolled his eyes. "Next time –" he stopped, sensing movement behind her. He was about to shout and warn her, but the other attacker had already jumped her, sending Melinda crashing to the floor. _

_Immediately Chris was there, trying to pull the guy off her, only to have him sent flying backwards as the extraordinarily strong assailant shook Chris off. _

_Chris recovered quickly, and knew he would have no choice but to use his powers. With an angry swipe of his arm, Chris sent the guy flying away from Melinda into a wall. Chris ran over in an instant, landing a well positioned punch into the assailant's nose. _

_Satisfied that there were more people nearby, Chris rushed to Melinda's side, offering his hand to her, which she gladly accepted. "You okay?" _

"_Yeah," Melinda answered, one hand massaging her temples, "Thanks to you," _

"Phoebe?" Leo called in concern.

Phoebe snapped out of the premonition. "I second that."

Everybody looked at each other in confusion. "Second what?"

"That."

Piper glared at her sister. Phoebe could be extremely oblivious sometimes. "Clarify."

"Chris staying. I just had a premonition of him helping a girl out . . . which must be some sign that he's good."

"Oh, _that._" Piper replied, thick sarcasm dripping from her voice. She turned to Chris. "I guess you're staying, for now." She stressed the last two words severely.

Paige gave Chris an encouraging smile, who looked relieved that Piper wasn't going to blow him up.

"But," Piper added, "If I see you hurting Wyatt in any way . . ." she left her sentence hanging, leaving the potential punishment to Chris's imagination. Piper was pleased to see Chris gulp nervously. Now that she had successfully threatened him and made him squirm . . .

"Who's up for some homemade Halliwell cookies?"


	5. Vision Quest

Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews! I apologize for the long wait . . .my computer's hard drive completely crashed, so I had to wait for a very long time for the hard drive to come in, get installed, etc. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it.This chapter is somewhat shorter than my usual length, but that's because it ties in with chapter six. They'retwo parters, thus the possibly confusing cliffhanger at the end. (evil grin) I can't wait to see what people think is going to happen next. Enjoy!

* * *

"So can you fix him?"

Gideon blinked at the youngest Halliwell sister's blunt request. But then, Paige Matthews always was straightforward. He scrutinized the young witch-whitelighter carefully, amused at the way Chris Perry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. The boy had been nothing but guarded and cold in their previous meetings.

The Elder sighed. If he was to keep their trust long enough o get to baby Wyatt, he would have to at least _try _to help.

"Amnesia is a very delicate condition, Paige," Gideon began.

But she interrupted him. "Can't you do _anything_?"

Gideon huffed indignitly. Paige was being very rude. "As I was saying, you can't just _wave _a wand and expect memories to be restored. The mind is fragile, and if you tried to magically toy with it too much, you could . . ."

"'Wave a wand'? Being a little stereotypical, aren't you? I mean, I haven't seen any witches use wands yet." Paige interrupted yet again, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Chris's mouth twitched into a slight smile.

Gideon bit his tongue. For being part of a trio of the most powerful witches in the world, she sure was immature. But just as his patience was waning, he could see the irritation in her eyes as well. It seems that their whitelighter's abrupt loss of memory has caused them more problems than he originally thought. Gideon had gotten lucky; the timing of that random warlock's attack couldn't have been better. He silently thanked the Powers.

He mused over his options. He didn't want Chris to get his memories back so soon–a little more turmoil couldn't hurt. Then, Gideon remembered that he had a Native American shaman in Magic School. A vision quest. Perfect. No doubt it'd reveal something, thought Gideon doubted it would be enough to restore the boy's complete memory. It was a risk, but at this point, Gideon would take it.

"I've got it!" Gideon exclaimed, forcing enthusiasm into his voice, "Chris can take a vision quest!"

"The what?" Both Paige and Chris asked, glancing at each other in confusion.

"Native American tradition. It may help."

Paige caught Chris's eye. "What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Let's try it. What have I got to lose? More memory?"

Paige's bright red lips curled into a smile. "And start the whole 'Who the hell am I' thing again? I think not."

Chris nodded in agreement. "Okay, so where do I go?"

The Headmaster of Magic School closed his eyes and sensed for Enola, the shaman. When he located her magical aura, he sent a telepathic message, alerting her of Chris's coming. There was a warm sensation of acceptance. Enola would be waiting for Chris.

"Just take a stroll down the hall and follow your instincts." Gideon instructed, telekinetically opening the door to his office.

Chris looked confused, but obediently did as he was told. He continued to walk down the seemingly endless corridor until a hawk came swooping out of nowhere, the velvet tips of its wings gently brushing Chris's cheek.

"What the–"

The hawk cried a mournful call, and began flying away.

_Well, he told me to follow my instincts, _he mused, jogging after the hawk. He came to a stop as the hawk led him into a cave-like surrounding. While its sharp yellow eyes stared directly through Chris, he watched the eye change into a more human shape, the yellow darkening to brown.

"I supposed you're Chris?" she asked, politely, as if she already knew the answer.

"Yeah," Chris replied warily, "and you are?"

She looked up from her work. She had been stirring something in a small pot over a fire. "Enola. I'm a shaman." Enola then dipped a metal dipper into the pot, scooping up some of the contents. "Drink this."

"Why?" Chris asked warily. In the past few days, he's been attacked enough to be suspicious of everyone. Honestly, the demon disguised as the mailman _was _freaky, and a little much. It was because of all those incidents that Piper decided that Chris needed around the clock protection. She knew he was the weak link, someone vulnerable enough that someone could use to get to her kids.

It would have worked great if it wasn't annoying the hell out of everyone. Piper had been trying to pin Paige and Phoebe with babysitting Chris duty, much to their irritation and Chris's. He was in his twenties for Christ's sake!

"You have to drink it if you want your vision quest."

Chris closely examined her face. He couldn't see any deceit, so he took the dipper and drank it. Immediately he felt the same yanking sensation he felt when he recovered a memory.

He wasn't in the shaman's cave anymore. He was in the Manor, with the Charmed Ones in front of him.

"You're useless, Chris!" Phoebe snarled angrily, acting unlike herself.

"A sarcastic, manipulative, lying jackass too," Paige jeered.

"You're a disgrace, a disappointment." Piper finished, her words hitting home.

Chris felt every insult like a stab in the heart. But he was also confused. What kind of a vision quest was this? Was this just showing how much the sisters despised him?

Suddenly, he felt himself being blown backwards into the rear wall behind him. Piper's hands were outstretched, her hands being the source of the explosion of power.

Paige orbed the table over to him, pinning him to the wall. Chris grunted, trying to shove the table out of the way. When he finally pushed it aside, he found Phoebe's foot connecting with his face.

Thank god she wasn't wearing heels.

Chris knew he was getting the crap kicked out of him, and knew he had to fight back. Once he returned the favor for Phoebe, Piper blew him into oblivion.

He landed with a loud thud back onto the cave floor, rubbing his aching muscles.

"I thought visions weren't supposed to hurt!" he complained to Enola. But she merely extended the dipper back towards Chris. "Try again."

Reluctantly accepting the dipper, he asked, "Isn't there a hint you can give me?"

Enola hesitated, but decided to cut him some slack. "Just remember that you should only be concerned with reaching your quest."

"Wait, aren't I already in my quest?"

Enola nodded. "Yes, but in order to fully embrace it, you have to cleanse your aura of the barriers that are blocking your way to progress." At the blank look on Chris's face, Enola added simply, "Clear your mind."

"Right, clear my mind," Chris inhaled deeply, and pressed the bitter potion against his lips. Once again, he was yanked into the vision quest.

There were the sisters again. He tried to clear his mind, but they weren't going away. Chris blocked out their voices, not letting them get to him. As Phoebe's shoes flew at his face, Chris winced and shut his eyes tightly. Phoebe sailed clean through him, as if she–or Chris–was transparent.

Sighing in relief at making it past the first barrier, he continued on, the Charmed Ones fading behind him. Someone else materialized in front of him, much to his displeasure.

Leo, his mouth hard, blue eyes piercing, had his arms crossed as he glared down at Chris. Leo seemed to have grown about three feet taller, and Chris felt significantly smaller.

_Well, he can definitely kick my butt now, _Chris thought. _But he's just an illusion, get over it._

As he proceeded to walk past Leo, the Elder placed a hand against Chris's chest, topping him in his tracks. A chill of fear went up Chris's spine.

"Going somewhere?" Leo asked coldly.

Gathering any remaining courage, Chris met Leo's eyes, his expression defiant.

"I'm not afraid of you," he replied, his voice surprisingly steady and controlled, the ice in his voice matching Leo's. As Chris brushed past Leo casually, a reminiscent of the old, emotionally controlled Chris surfaced. In that moment, he didn't feel like some fragile antique that could break any second. He felt more empowered, as if no one could push him around.

But that addicting feeling lasted only until he reached his next obstacle. In front of him was complete and utter darkness. Chris couldn't see a thing beyond the haze, and he couldn't see any other place to go. He could either go back in failure, or go forward into the unknown.

Chris had to admit, he was scared. He wanted to know what was beyond the darkness . . . after all, that _was _the point in him taking the vision quest in the first place. All the same, though, he didn't want to know. Just staring into the darkness gave him bad vibes. As he took a step forward, a rush of cold air made him stumble backwards.

But he knew he had to do it. So Chris shut his eyes tightly and walked through the darkness.

Suddenly, the ground underneath his feet collapsed, and Chris plunged down through the darkness and back into Enola's cave. A loud, head splitting laugh echoed throughout the cave.

"What the hell?" Chris muttered.

That's when he saw her.

Enola's body was sprawled on the cave floor, lifeless. A pool of blood lay underneath her head, soaking the tips of her hair. A brutal gash was sliced across her throat, disfiguring her.

Chris felt like he was going to puke. The vision quest had failed, he was sent back to the cave, and someone had murdered the shaman. Or maybe her death ended the vision quest. Chris didn't know, nor did he care. All he could see was her dull eyes and the trickle of blood down the side of her mouth.

Goosebumps rose up all over his arm as dread froze his heart. The sisters. They must know who did this. Chris focused on the Manor and orbed.

What he saw was not pretty. Chris absorbed the scene, with Paige and Phoebe sprawled on the ground, not moving. He looked up sharply as he heard a muffled scream.

"Chris! Help!" Piper managed to screech before her captor _orbed _her out, the _black _orbs enveloping her and taking her away. Damn, Chrishadn't gottena good look at the captor.

"Leo!" he called loudly, "I need you _now_!"

The Elder orbed down in front of Chris, his voice slightly irritated, "I was in an important meeting Chris. What is it?"

"Them," Chris answered quickly, gesturing at Paige and Phoebe.

Leo's eyes widened and he quickly worked on healing them, asking Chris at the same time, "What happened?"

"I don't know. I orbed in and–they were like this," he finished lamely.

Slowly, but steadily, Leo worked his magic and both sisters got up, moaning and clutching their foreheads.

"Aw, man, what happened?" Paige mumbled, gently rubbing her temples with her fingers.

"Piper was kidnapped," Leo replied calmly. How he knew that, Chris didn't know, maybe it was that married couple connection or something. All Chris knew was that despite Leo's calm demeanor, he was worried, and hurting. He could see the tempest in Leo's eyes. Surprisingly, Chris felt sorry for the guy.

But only a little.

Before he realized what was going on, he felt that nagging sensation of somebody orbing him away. Chris's eyes widened as he watched himself be engulfed by _black _orbs.

"Leo!" he managed to call out before his body completely dematerialized.

As his vision cleared, Chris could see that he had arrived in a dank, dark cave. Yes, another cave. _What is up with people and creepy caves?_ He wondered.

"Confused, Chris?"

He spun around quickly towards the direction of the strangely familiar voice. As he took in the appearance of Piper's captor, his brain froze with utter shock.

Why the hell was _Peter the bartender _kidnapping Piper? Chris groaned inwardly. First the mailman and now P3's bartender? What's next, the little old lady crossing the street?

Chris really wanted to just orb out of there, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Piper. And curiosity. He wanted to know what Peter had to gain from this. Chris felt really stupid now; how could he have fallen for his trick? But then, who expects some random bartender to be a demon?

Peter smiled, his lips curling in amusement. He was enjoying every second of this, Chris could tell. But why?

"Oh, I'mno demon, Chris. No, I'm far above them. I'm the Twice Blessed Witch, the heir to King Arthur's Excalibur, the first born son of one of the most powerful witches in magical history."

Peter's eyes stayed trained on Chris's, and he knew that the bravado was all for Chris's sake. He was testing him, seeing if any of those titles were familiar to the witch-whitelighter. They weren't; what perplexed Chris the most were the implications that Peter was a witch. Chris couldn't see it before, but he felt a dark aura radiating off of Peter. He could have kicked himself for not catching it before, because now, Piper was in trouble.

Chuckling lightly, Peter shook his head and raised his dull blue eyes from Chris's face to the ceiling.

"Man, I never thought I'd see the day . . ." Peter muttered to himself, still shaking his head.

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked, utterly confused. "Do I know you from before?"

Peter unexpectedly started laughing as if what Chris had just said was the funniest thing in the world.

"Are you kidding?" Peter asked, incredulous. "It's been a couple weeks since I last talked to you in P3. You're telling me that you _still _don't know who I am? That you don't recognize me, eventhough I'm dropping you some telltale hints?"

"No . . ."

He smiled cruelly, his eyes glinting with malicious inspiration. "Maybe some trauma will help the memory loss."

Peter suddenly tossed Piper aside as if she were a rag doll, gesturing with his hands and holding her up against the wall. Piper's eyes widened as one hand clutched her round belly and the other scratched at her throat, trying to ward off the invisible force choking her. Her fingers twitched, clearly attempting to blow Peter away, but he had control over her fingers as well, keeping them still and bound, not allowing her to activate her power.

Anger pumped through Chris's veins. Piper was pregnant, how could Peter, a witch, try to suffocate her? With an uncontrolled scream, Chris lunged at Peter, effectively knocking him down.

With enormous power, Peter sent Chris flying backwards into the wall. Chris moaned as he impacted the wall, rubbing his bruised shoulder tenderly. That's when his sense of place started kicking back in. He remembered that he, too, was a witch. Using his instinct, he gestured with his arm, sending Peter flying away from Piper.

"So . . ." Peter commented, calmly getting up from the floor, not a scratch on him, "you haven't forgotten everything."

A spike of fear froze Chris in his place. His powers hadn't had any effect on Peter. If he kept this up, all he could do is throw him around and tire him. Although Chris had the feeling that Peter wouldn't let him off the hook for long.

Peter gestured with his hands, and Chris's throat felt like it was going to collapse. In that suffocating moment, Chris couldn't breathe. No sound came out of his throat, and his head began to spin, the lack of oxygen starting to make his vision blurry.

But suddenly, there was an explosion, and Chris felt that invisible force release him. He fell to the ground, gasping and gagging. As he looked up, he found Piper's hand outstretched and Peter on the ground, his face contorted in anger.

Chris gave Piper a grateful look, to which she responded as pointing frantically at Peter, who was just starting to get up.

He glanced from Chris to Piper, his eyes glazed as if he were deep in thought. Suddenly, he gestured to Piper, who was unwillingly slid over to him. Peter sighed, and Chris could see turmoil in his eyes. He was confused. Why would Peter be feeling regret?

"My name's not Peter, by the way." he added, catching Chris's puzzled gaze.

_No kidding. _Chris had guessed that long ago.

"It's Wyatt. Wyatt Halliwell." He waited for the impact to sink in, watched the stunned look on Chris's face fade into disgust.

Wyatt restrained his mother's arms, not allowing her any chance for escape. Then he raised his eyes and gazed into Chris's.

"This hurts me more than it hurts you, believe me," Wyatt stated coldly, "After all, you won't be around to feel anything."

Chris was confused. Why wouldn't he be around? What was going on? Wyatt clearly saw the unspoken question in his stormy green eyes, and answered it.

"If Mommy doesn't push, little baby Chris doesn't get to breathe." Wyatt's eyes sparkled, smiling at his own brilliance, allowing Chris to interpret his slightly cryptic words.

Chris was shocked. He wasn'table to wrap his mind around what Wyatt was telling him. Was he being serious? Did he hear him right? Was Piper his . . . mother? Was the woman who was clearly exasperated with him twenty-four-seven and whose feelings for him bordered on hate . . . his mother?

Deciding that Chris had enough time to dwell on that thought, Wyatt turned to stare at Piper's betrayed eyes, staring up widely at him in blazing anger, confusion, and . . . guilt. Before, when he was still clinging to that feeble idea of good and evil, when he was still weak, Wyatt might not have been able to go through it. But he was stronger now, and had worked hard to attain his power. If killing his mother and making his beloved baby brother's existence cease would help him keep that power, he would do it. He kept on telling himself that it was okay. After all, he had offered Chris and the rest of his family a chance to join him numerous of times. And they still chose to oppose him, until one by one they all died, save for Chris and Melinda.

"Say goodbye, Chris,"

Chris's brain froze. What was he doing? Then it dawned on him. He was going to kill Piper. Wyatt was going to kill his own mother! _Chris's _mother. Chris felt his legs instinctively running towards mother and son, desperately hoping that he could stop her death. _His _death.

But he wasn't fast enough.

With a sharp crack and the blur of twisting hands, Piper Halliwell crumpled to the floor.


	6. Foreshadow

Chris's heart stopped beating.

"No . . ." he whispered. Why now? Why when he _just _found out who he was? _That's _why Chris was so set on saving Wyatt; it's because he's his _brother. _He should have realized it. Only family would make sacrifices and endure hostility and hatred. Everything made so much sense now, why everything in the Manor, from the sights to the smells, was familiar. Because he had grown up there.

Chris could feel himself fading away, ceasing to exist. He stared into the eyes of his brother, and wondered how someone could do that to their own flesh and blood.

"I'm sorry," Wyatt whispered to him, and Chris believed him. There was true pain and regret etched all over his face.

Chris bit his lip angrily, his fists clenching and unclenching. The guy had killed his own mother! What kind of a . . . _monster _does that? Finally, losing his last shred of self control, he screamed, launching himself at his brother, only to find that he passed right through him.

Confused, Chris looked at his hands. They were transparent and fading fast. He looked up into Wyatt's eyes, his _brother's _eyes, and wondered why the hell was he dying for that monster. Why he suffered for him. Chris just couldn't wrap his mind around it, especially now that he was fading away, slowly.

Leo, Phoebe, and Paige orbed in just in time to see Chris completely fade away, a sad, mournful glaze in his eyes. Leo's eyes. His family had no idea what was going on, and was therefore unable to do anything but watch their whitelighter disappear.

So the brothers watched each other in silence until only one stood squatting on the cave floor.

A few beats later Chris found himself solid, but the cave around him was darker than usual, and possessed a depressing blue tint. He frowned when he noticed that he couldn't see Wyatt or the rest of the Halliwells.

Suddenly, he paled. Is he stuck here? Chris didn't technically die . . . he ceased to exist. Was that so unique that he's doomed to stay in this depressing place forever?

"You never stop being neurotic, do you?"

Chris turned around sharply at the familiar, amused voice. Piper smiled sadly at her youngest son, feeling guilty and regretful knowing how she and the rest of his family had treated him in the past. Now, there was no way to go back and change things, especially if both of them are dead.

Sighing and rubbing her still pregnant stomach, Piper was glad that Chris hadn't arrived in the ghostly plane until later. That way, he didn't see Piper freaking out and getting over the denial that he was her son. Actually, she still wasn't quite sure if she has fully accepted that fact yet.

"No!" he denied, glaring at Piper in annoyance. They were dead; how the hell could she possibly be so sarcastic and cheerful?

"You're probably wondering where we are." Piper stated plainly.

Chris nodded slowly.

"The ghostly plane, where you were conceived," Piper explained lightly, smiling at the way Chris scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Ugh, too much information," he muttered.

Piper smiled, and moved closer to her son. She slowly raised her hand out hesitantly, and placed her warm palm on Chris's cheek. He stared at her, surprised at this show of affection. All that he could remember getting from her was distrust and hate.

Closing his eyes, Chris knew he'd never felt Piper touch him this tenderly . . . at least, not in this time. He recognized the feeling of comfort and safety from the future he didn't remember. Vague emotions began to shape into images, and another fragment was discovered.

"_Wyatt! Wait for me!" Ten-year-old Chris called, huffing and puffing after pretty much sprinting the last couple of blocks to their home. _

_Wyatt stopped abruptly, causing Chris to collide into him, toppling both brothers over. _

"_Chris!" Wyatt yelped, turning around and glaring heatedly at his younger brother. "Watch where you're going!" _

"_Sorry, Wy," Chris apologized sheepishly. "But it's your fault." _

_His brother opened his mouth incredulously. "_My _fault? How's it my fault?" _

"_Because you wouldn't let us orb!" Chris explained, sticking his tongue out at the blonde twelve-year-old. _

_Wyatt scoffed. "Well, don't blame me, blame Mom. You know she wants us to use as little magic as possible." _

"_Yeah . . ." Chris whined, "But if we're too late for cookies, then it'll be cold and it won't taste good anymore." _

_His big brother rolled his eyes. "Is that all you think about, Chris? The cookies will taste fine, and if they _are _cold, there's that little modern invention called the _microwave._" _

_Chris smirked suddenly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Then why were _you _running home as fast as you could?" _

_At this remark, Wyatt's smug look faded, and his confidence faltered for a moment. He stuttered, "I, um, well, damn."_

_The younger Halliwell's eyes widened scandalously, and he pointed at Wyatt accusingly. "You swore, Wy, you swore! You're too young to swear! I'm telling Mom!"_

_Wyatt scowled, annoyed at his younger brother's immaturity. "I'm _twelve, _Chris. I'm almost old enough to watch PG-13 movies. I'd _think _I was old enough to swear." _

_Chris's scowl mirrored Wyatt's as they sat there and glowered at each other, and somehow silently started a staring contest. Chris's eyes were staring to feel dry and in need of some good blinking, but he refused to let his brother win. Finally, Chris caught a flicker from Wyatt's bright blue eyes, and Chris pumped his fist up in the air, celebrating his victory._

"_Ha-ha! I win!" he cheered, doing a little victory dance on the paved sidewalk. _

_Wyatt stared at him, mortified, and cast a nervous glance at the surrounding area. He reached up and yanked Chris's shirt, forcing him to stop dancing. "Stop it, Chris! You're embarrassing me!" _

_Chris pouted. "You're no fun anymore, Wyatt." He mumbled, sticking his hands in his jeans' pocket. _

_Sighing, Wyatt got up, his mouth set in a hard line, making him look extremely peeved. "Shut up, midget. See you at home." _

"_Hey, Wy, wait –" Chris called, but Wyatt was already walking up the steps of the Halliwell Manor. He slumped slightly, confused at Wyatt's moody behavior._

It's got to be the puberty. _Chris mused, _I am _so _not looking forward to that!

_He scrambled quickly to follow his brother up the stairs. Unfortunately he wasn't paying attention and tripped over his unlaced shoelaces, causing Chris to fall hard and scratch his face and hurt his knee badly, even ripping through the tough denim fabric of his jeans. _

_Chris winced in pain as salty tears of pain blurred his vision. He sniffed and wiped the tears away with his sleeve. _

_The door opened behind him to reveal his mother, still wearing her apron and carrying the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies around her, who called, "Chris?" _

"_Here, Mom," Chris answered from his spot on the floor, wrinkling his nose at the blood staining through the denim._

"_Wyatt said you were coming . . . what'd you do to your new jeans?" Mom asked, leaning down next to him to get a better look. She quickly examined her son to see if he was hurt anywhere else. Grabbing his chin, she gently turned his face around and saw the scratch on his face. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. _

_Chris blushed. "I was trying to catch up to Wyatt and I tripped . . ." _

"_. . . and ruined your new jeans," Mom finished dryly. _

"_Do ya _have _to keep rubbing that in?" Chris grumbled. After all, it's not like he _meant _to rip his jeans. He actually liked that pair. _

_Mom made a "humph" sound with her throat and raised an eyebrow, giving Chris "the look". Chris squirmed under her menacing gaze and muttered his apology. _

_Smirking now that she got her desired result, Mom helped Chris get up on his feet. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." _

_Chris winced in pain as he limped into the foyer of the Manor, deeply inhaling the pleasant scent of double chocolate chip cookies. "Can I have a cookie first?" _

"_No, not until we clean the wound and you change pants." _

_Chris pouted and whined, "But by then the cookies will be cold! Can't Dad just heal it?" He stiffened as soon as the words popped out of his mouth. Chris scowled; he didn't know why he'd just said that. It's not like his Dad would come anyway if he called. _

_Mom pursed her lips, knowing how Chris felt about his father, and said, "No, because we can't rely on magic for everything. You've got to build up your immune system. Besides, it'll only take a minute." _

_While her son sat down on the sofa, propping his feet up onto the wooden table, Mom grabbed the First-Aid Kit and opened it, taking out a cotton swab and alcohol. Chris rolled up his pants to reveal a bloody knee. Using tissues, Piper dabbed at his knee. When most of the blood had been cleared away, she used the cotton swab, causing Chris to hiss in pain in reaction to the stinging alcohol._

"OW! _Mom, that hurt!" _

"_Oh, quit your complaining," Mom told him, continuing to swab his knee. Chris's face was screwed up in a mixture of annoyance and pain, but he didn't complain. _

_Finally, once Mom finished swabbing his knee and placed a Band-Aid on the wound, Chris leapt up suddenly, startling his mother, and made a quick dash upstairs._

"_Where are you going mister?" Mom asked, calling loudly after him, but Chris was already gone. However, no more than a minute later, Chris came leaping down the stairs with a fresh pair of shorts on. _

"_Cookie time!" he announced happily. _

_But Mom grabbed his arm tightly. "Let's have a look at your cheek too." _

"_Moooooommm . . ." Chris whined. Those cookies were smelling better and better with each passing minute. To make things worse, Wyatt was now standing in the doorway, cookie in hand, slowly munching on the chocolaty delight, mocking Chris. _

"_Who's immature now?"_ _Chris grumbled to himself. _

_His mother's expression softened considerably, and she pinched Chris's cheek affectionally. "I just want to make sure you didn't ruin that handsome face." _

"_MOM!" Chris yelled in embarrassment, blushing furiously when he saw his brother snickering from the doorway._

_Wyatt's laugh was not missed by Mom, who decided to include her eldest son in the fun. "And I really think I should restrict your cookie diet, Wyatt . . . how will you get a girlfriend with a big gut?" _

_Now it was Wyatt's turn to blush and Chris's turn to laugh. _

"_I think I'll take my chances, Mom," Wyatt shot back good naturedly, making a show of taking another bite into the fattening cookie. _

_Laughing, Piper led Chris into the kitchen and handed him the roundest, most chocolaty cookie she could find. _

"_Ruin another good pair of pants and no cookies for you for a month," Piper threatened, but the amused, loving smile she showered on Chris as she handed him the cookie didn't help in Chris taking her threat seriously. _

"_Don't worry, Mom, don't worry," Chris reassured her before happily munching into the cookie._

Chris smiled at the memory, a smile that faded slightly when he found himself away from the sunny, happy memory and back in the cold, depressing reality.

Piper's smile was sad and regretful as she said simply, "We don't have much time."

"But . . . we're dead. Isn't that time already gone?"

His mother shook her head. "No, not until the Angel of Death comes to take us away. Before he, or she, comes . . . we're stuck in limbo, which is actually a good thing, now that I think about it."

Chris's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And how is that a good thing?"

"Because we have some time to figure some way to resurrect ourselves to warn the girls and Leo about Wyatt. That and I'd like to be able to give birth to mini-you instead of losing both at the same time."

Suddenly Chris had a mental image of himself being born and crinkled his nose in revulsion. He groaned. God, being dead must be making him insane or something. How could he even think of something like that at a time like this?

"Will spells work here?" he asked, turning to his –he was going to say it –mother.

Piper frowned. "I'm not sure," she shrugged, "but it's worth a try."

Chris looked around their empty surroundings wistfully, "If only we had some paper and a pen . . ."

Just as he said it, orbs floated around his hands, materializing into a pad of yellow paper and a pen. "Whoa," he said. "I didn't know my powers worked in the ghostly plane. Come to think of it, is that even one of my powers?"

Piper's frowned deepened, her eyes becoming worried. "Our witch powers don't work here. That's why I wasn't sure if the spell would work. As for whether or not that's one of your powers . . . you tell me."

But Chris just shrugged it off. "Hey, if it works, let's just go with it."

"You're right," Piper admitted, but she still looked concerned.

They quickly discussed rhyming words and how to call upon certain powers to help them out of this mess. Piper did most of the spell writing, having more memory of her experiences with spells, but Chris did add some input on rhymes and such.

Piper examined their handiwork carefully, then sighed. "The third line sounds like a Yoda moment, but I don't think the spell's going to be affected by that."

Suddenly, a swirling black vortex appeared behind them, and a solemn looking man dressed in black appeared. "It is time."

"Quick, Chris, read it with me!" Piper urged, putting the piece of paper between them. So together they read quickly:

_Combined power of the Halliwell line_

_Bring us back to where the world's not fine_

_Help our family, continue the legacy we must_

_Before one of our own makes the world rust_

White lights swirled around Chris, but not Piper. "Mom!" he called out, panicking, before he reappeared back in the real world.

"Piper?" Chris called again, searching for any sign of his mother. Hopefully the lights not taking her were just a delayed reaction, and it was going to deliver her any second now.

"How did you come back?" An astonished voice asked him from behind him. Chris turned around to face his monster of a brother, who was smirking, amused. "It looks like little Chris's picking up some new tricks."

Chris's fists clenched, barely able to hold on to his emotions. This so-called man killed his own mother, a mother who for some reason wasn't carried here with the spell. Piper was really gone. That warm, joking mother Chris saw in that memory . . . was gone.

"You evil bastard!" Chris spat in hatred, advancing towards him.

Wyatt put his hands up in mock surrender. "Now, now, Chris, remember that little thing you were always getting on my case about? _Don't swear little brother." _

Chris blinked in surprise. Was it just a coincidence that Wyatt just happened to refer to the flashback Chris had received?

"You're disgusting," Chris informed him, "You're sick, twisted and –"

"_Ouch! _That stings Chris, why do you have to be that way? After all, _I'm _not the one betraying my brother . . . _you _are. You _and_ your fiancé. Oh, yes, I know about your engagement. Congratulations, by the way."

Chris frowned, confused. What engagement? Chris had a fiancé? "What lies are you telling me now?"

Wyatt laughed loudly, his lips curling in amusement. "Wow, your fiancé won't be very happy to hear that you've forgotten her already. After all . . ." Wyatt winked at him, eyes glittering maliciously, "she _did _get staked by a table leg while trying to save you."

The younger Halliwell had no words to spare now. God, he thought knowing his true identity would be enlightening and helpful. Instead, it just brought so much misery, knowing he was related to this sick monster, his mom was dead, still pregnant with him, which was weird enough, and now, his fiancé had been murdered. Chris really did not have a happy life, did he?

But just as he was thinking those depressing thoughts, the aroma of cookies and the image of Mom's smiling face came back to him. No, there _were _good times. They were just rare recently.

"No . . ." he whispered, his head spinning, unable to cope with this wash of information.

"Yes, Chris," Wyatt said softly, "You're a Halliwell. And by blood and by legacy, a fate forced upon us by those damned Elders all up on high, safe in their Haven, you are destined to fight all your life, watch those you love the most die, and do it all for nothing. All of the pain, all the death, and we get nothing. The Elders don't appreciate us; hell, they were dead set against me and you being born! But the way _I _see it, there is no good and evil, no right and wrong.

"You see, Halliwells have usually died young because we feel the need to fight evil because of the legacy our foremothers told us about, a legacy the _Elders _told Melinda Warren about. But we believed them because they held power, which made them inclined to think themselves as wise. If I possessed the power, everyone will listen to me, and I can change our legacy, our fate. We will no longer have to fight for our lives every single day. We, finally, after generations of Halliwells, will get the appreciation and recognition we deserve."

Chris glared at the tall blonde, sickened to the core at the smug casualness his voice and expression carried, not caring that moments before he had just snapped the neck of his own mother.

Seeing that Wyatt was monologuing now, Chris found this as the perfect opportunity to get revenge. Subtlety picking up a sharp rock on the floor, Chris began to slowly advance towards Wyatt. But once he lunged, about to thrust the rock into his heart, Wyatt intercepted him with a flash of metal. Before Chris knew it, he was hit with the flat of a sword, causing the world to spin.

"This is Excalibur, by the way," Wyatt explained, as if he was benefiting Chris by doing so.

Chris dropped the rock and clutched his head painfully, waiting for the disorientation to stop.

"Wow, you really have forgotten her, haven't you, Chris?" Wyatt laughed, mocking him. He advanced towards Chris, the point of the sword pointed between his brother's eyes. "I honestly thought she had trained you better than this."

"She?" Chris asked warily, curiosity getting the best out of him. There was still so much he didn't know about himself. Not that it would matter if Wyatt killed him.

Wyatt groaned in frustration. "What do you mean 'She'? _Your fiancé, _Chris! Haven't you been listening at _all _to what I've been saying?"

_Not really, _Chris thought, deciding it wouldn't be wise to say that out loud.

"You know, it really makes me wonder if I should have healed her or something instead of letting her bleed to death. I mean, at the very least I could have killed her in a more satisfying way. I just shook her off and she went flying! You got to admit; that's not a very thrilling kill."

"Wait . . . _you _killed my . . . fiancé?" Chris asked slowly, rage building up within him.

Wyatt smiled. "Yes."

Chris screamed, infuriated about the death of this woman he didn't remember, and saw Piper's neck twisting horribly, recalled the _snap _sound her neck had made when it was broken. He screamed, and lunged towards the tip of Excalibur.

He didn't fully understand what he was doing. His body seemed to be acting on its own, digging deep in years of experience Chris's mind didn't remember. Using a maneuver he didn't remember learning, Chris grabbed Excalibur out of Wyatt's grasp, using two fingers to grab the flat of the blade and yank it upwards. The ancient sword of lore went flying out of Wyatt's unsuspecting and surprised hand, falling down with a _clank _on the ground.

Screaming his anger, his pain, Chris leapt on top of Wyatt and began punching him, _hard. _He enjoyed seeing this emotionless man finally getting a taste of his own medicine. Chris knew brothers were supposed to have some kind of a connection, some kind of unconditional love –but Chris couldn't feel that right now. All he knew was that he was dealing out justice to a monster.

Chris's knuckles were beginning to bleed, but he didn't care. He was lost in the sea of his emotions, numb to everything. Finally, he called Excalibur to him and rammed the sword into Wyatt's cold heart, never taking his green eyes off of Wyatt's blue eyes. Chris watched in satisfaction as Wyatt's eyes slowly dulled and became lifeless.

His hands began to shake. Chris dropped Excalibur to the floor and stared at his hands, stained with Wyatt's blood. What had he become? He was as bad as Wyatt now. But then, Chris didn't really feel sorry, did he? Chris couldn't feel anything; as far as he knew, he had no connection to this man, no past, save that one brief memory. Wyatt wasn't his brother because he couldn't remember growing up with him.

Still shaking from what he had just done, Chris watched numbly as his bloody hands slowly began to become transparent. Right before he completely disappeared, Chris closed his eyes and wondered wistfully why it'd taken him so long to fade away.

Chris opened his eyes to see not the ghostly plane, but Enola's inquisitive brown eyes studying him closely. He caught his breath, and his eyes widened. "You're dead."

The Shaman raised an eyebrow. "Is that what the vision made you see?"

"Wh –what?"

"You were in your vision quest the entire time, Chris. Did you not realize that?"

Chris was utterly confused now. It had felt so _real._ But then he realized that there were some inaccuracies that he didn't notice at first, flaws in the design of the vision quest. For one thing, where was Phoebe, Paige, and Leo after he was resurrected? And why had the pen and paper magically appear to him in the ghostly plane? Other than that, all of it was so painstakingly realistic that Chris was still reeling from the horror of seeing Piper die. "I thought I had failed. I woke up and found you . . . dead. Then this guy, who ended up _not _being that guy, but a _different _guy, he showed up and kidnapped Piper. He orbed me down to him and I found out . . . who I am. Then he . . . he killed Piper . . . which sent me to the ghostly plane with her, and we said a spell that was supposed to resurrect us but for some reason only resurrected me. This guy, he told me some stuff about my life and then pissed me off . . . and I killed him."

Enola was silent for a moment. Chris would be supremely impressed with her if she managed to understand the incoherent rant Chris had just done.

"It's a very vivid and . . . interesting vision quest," she muttered, almost to herself.

"Yeah. It felt so real, everything was so _real. _Are you sure this isn't another part of the vision quest, this conversation we're having?" Chris demanded. This vision quest thing was, quite possibly, giving him an even _bigger _headache than the whole ride of confusion and explanations about him coming from the future, being a whitelighter and dead when in reality he lied and is really _half _whitelighter, and now being a Halliwell, and the baby Piper's _pregnant with_.

Chris grimaced. Never mind. The vision quest was only an annoyance in comparison with the confusion with his identity.

Enola pondered his question carefully. "I suppose the vision quests are as real as you need them to be."

Chris frowned. "But why was my vision quest like that? I mean, it told me the identity of the guy who wasn't who I thought he was and who I am but still . . . there's got to be something else I'm not getting. What else could this vision quest be telling me?"

As he was wondering this, images flashed before his eyes of himself stabbing Wyatt in the chest, and himself staring at his shaking hands, covered in his brother's blood.

Enola looked at him knowingly, almost as if she could read his mind and see the images Chris was repeating to himself. Slowly, with conviction, she suggested, "Perhaps it is a warning of the future.

"A foreshadow of what is to come."

* * *

Did that twist surprise anyone? I hope so, because if the suspense was set up and the result falls flat on a predictable ending . . . that'd be bad writing on my part. Congrats to **Pearl-Magicgirl **for guessing correct about the plot twist! 


	7. Halliwell Headaches

Wow, the reviews broke a hundred! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, which helped me write this quickly and get a new chapter up soon. Enjoy the next chapter!

**Little Miss Spell-of-the-Week: **Actually, Chris _can_ be a murderer. Remember the sixth season's premiere _Valhalla of the Dolls_, where Chris kills three Valkaryies to get their pendants for the sisters? He is capable of being a murderer when he feels it is for "the greater good" or it's his last resort. When a person is upset or angry, they often say or do things that they don't mean. I also didn't want to ignore the darker aspects of Chris's personality. I'm glad you like the story and thanks for the review!

**Serina Kat: **Thanks for pointing out about the mistake about Vision Piper. It's a plot hole, but I think I was unconsciously trying to make it seem more un-vision quest like so the twist would be less obvious. I'll watch out for those, and please tell me if you catch any more. Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

"Chris, can you hand me the Murdock root?" Piper asked, not even bothering to look at her whitelighter, instead keeping her attention on the simmering potion and putting her arm out in Chris's direction, palm flat and waiting for him to give her the ingredient. 

"Sure," Chris answered, sifting through the potion cupboard. "Uh . . . which ones' the Murdock root?"

Piper sighed exasperatedly and turned to Chris. "The one that looks like a _root._"

Chris bristled indignantly, his tone annoyed, "I _know _what a root looks like, Piper. But there are five different roots in here, and they all look the same. You should really label these bottles. It'd cause less confusion."

The matriarch ignored his comment and waved him aside, grabbing the correct root herself. Chris couldn't help it, but he found his eyes staring at Piper's stomach, at the baby inside, _himself. _This was just too weird.

"What are you looking at?" Piper's sharp voice snapped.

Chris blushed. "Nothing!"

Piper's eyes narrowed in irritation. "I have enough strangers reaching out to touch my stomach and staring at me. I don't need my whitelighter doing it too."

He had to struggle not to flinch at this unintentionally stinging comment. Chris was having a hard time dealing with the sisters' attitudes towards him, especially now that they knew he was family. He had seen how loving Piper could be, thanks to the vision quest. To be called a stranger by his own mother really hurt. All week he'd been longing to tell them the truth, thinking that it'd make things easier.

However, Chris had not told the sisters of his identity before losing his memory, so he knew that there must be a good reason why the sisters didn't know.

So for now, Chris will have to deal with the hostility.

"Chris, why don't you go help Phoebe upstairs?" Piper suggested, "I've got things under control here."

Nodding silently, Chris made his way up the stairs. As he walked along the corridor towards the attic, he felt a strong hand on his arm yanking him into a room.

"What the hell!" he snarled when he saw who the hand belonged to.

"Relax, Chris, I just want to talk," Leo reassured him calmly, although he took a couple steps back to give the seething whitelighter some breathing room.

Chris closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. He tried to put out of his mind the thought that Leo was his father. Now he had a good idea of why he hated Leo so much. Judging from the few memories he had, Leo was a neglectful father. Chris didn't know the whole story, but that's when he assumed happen.

When he opened his eyes, Chris saw his own eyes staring back at him, albeit blue irises instead of green. Unable to stand Leo's very presence, Chris quickly averted his eyes towards the window.

"Listen, I'm not going to leave until I get some answers, so don't try to talk your way out of it; it'll just waste your time and mine."

Chris shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't know what I can tell you. No memory, remember?"

Leo crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door, blocking Chris's escape. "Oh, I think you'd remember this."

The whitelighter in question unconsciously crossed his arms in defense, his stance uncannily like Leo's. Shrugging, Chris tried to keep the dread out of his voice. "Remember what?"

"You've been acting weird all week." Leo observed instead of answering Chris's question. Chris really wanted to strangle the man, but kept his glare determinedly set on the billowing tree branch outside of the window. "Chris, _Chris, _look at me."

Reluctantly, Chris met Leo's eyes, infuriated that he was treating him like a child. "Just get to your point!" Chris snapped harshly.

"Fine," Leo replied calmly, "What I'm trying to say is that ever since the vision quest, you've been more on edge, more nervous. What did you see that's shaken you like that?"

Chris stiffened, knowing he couldn't tell Leo that he was his son. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

In the blink of an eye, Leo had glided across the room to stand in front of Chris, "If whatever you saw endangers my family, then it _becomes _my business."

_I _am _your family. _Chris thought bitterly.

"It won't endanger your family, trust me." Chris replied coolly.

Leo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Trust you? Sorry, that's not a good enough reason."

Chris bit his lip, knowing that Leo wasn't going to let him go. Finally, after some inner debating, he decided to tell Leo the truth.

Taking a deep breath, Chris told him, "I found out who I am, and who my parents are."

_A Halliwell. Yours and Piper's child. _

Leo's eyebrows rose. "Who are they?"

Remembering Wyatt's remark in the vision quest, Chris spat sarcastically, "Why do you want to know? What, you going to stop my mom from pushing?"

"No! Elders are pacifists! I would never do that!" _Even if it _was_ you, _Leo thought as an afterthought. He looked outraged at the very suggestion, and he was.

Chris was starting to take pleasure in annoying Leo. He decided to take the mocking one step further. "Pacifist, huh? You know, I wouldn't think so, especially when you were waving that Valkarie sword in my face."

Suddenly, Chris found himself pinned up against the wall, Leo's hand holding a strong grip on Chris's throat. Chris found himself strangely calm in the face of Leo's angrily contorted expression.

"I knew it!" Leo snarled, all patience gone from his voice, "I knew you've been lying about losing your memory!"

Chris kneed Leo in the abdomen, causing the older man to release his grip on Chris and recoil, backing away from the whitelighter. "No, you _idiot, _I knew about that because it's one of the few memories I've recovered. And –are you even listening to me?"

Leo was looking away from Chris, up at the ceiling, his fierce gaze no longer on the whitelighter.

"Wyatt." Leo muttered, his eyebrows scrunched together in worry. Without saying a word to Chris, Leo orbed out, leaving Chris standing there alone and feeling abandoned.

_Chris was excited. He was going to spend some quality time with Dad for the first time in a _really _long time. They were going to a basketball game, to watch the San Francisco Giants play the Seattle Mariners. _

_He quickly fished through all the junk in his closet, searching for his baseball hat and mitt. You never know when a home run could be coming your way, after all. Chris looked up and found his baseball mitt high up on top of his closet, beyond his reach. Knowing that his mother was out grocery shopping, Chris called for someone else._

"_Aunt Paige!" he called. After a beat, chiming filled the air and his youngest aunt materialized. _

"_Yeah, Chris?" Aunt Paige asked. She was dressed in her magic school robes and had a red pen and a piece of paper in her hand, so Chris assumed she had been grading papers._

"_Sorry to bother you," Chris apologized._

_Aunt Paige smiled at him warmly. "No, it's okay. Did you need something? 'Cause I've got to get back to grading papers or you students are going to give me grief tomorrow." Aunt Paige absently raised the paper higher, pointing at it. Chris noticed the familiar scrawl at the top of the paper: _Christopher Halliwell.

"_Aunt Paige, is that _my _test?" Chris asked innocently._

"_Huh?" His aunt looked back at the paper and quickly flipped it over. "No, of course not." _

_Chris gave her his best pout. "Can you tell me what I got, _please?_" _

_Aunt Paige waved her finger at him, mock scolding, "Now that wouldn't be fair to my other students, would it?" _

_He just continued pouting._

"_Don't try that on me, mister! That may work on Phoebe, but not on me!" _

"_I promise I won't tell anybody that you told me!" Chris pressed further, his lips now hurting from pouting so much._

_Aunt Paige frowned. "No, and that's final. After all, I can't give you special treatment just because you're my nephew, can I?" _

_Chris looked at her in confusion. "Yes, you can," _

"_I spoil you enough at home," Aunt Paige pointed out, affectionally patting Chris's head, smirking when she saw Chris scrunch up his nose like she knew he would. He hated it when people did that. "Now, what did you call me for?" _

_Chris gave up trying to get his aunt to show her his test score, so he pointed up at his baseball mitt. "Can you get it for me? I can't reach." _

_Aunt Paige obliged, handing hand-me-down mitt that used to belong to Wyatt to its current owner. "Where are you going with that, anyway?" _

_A huge smile lit Chris's face as he happily explained, "Dad's taking me to a baseball game!" _

_Matching Chris's smile, Aunt Paige dared to ruffle Chris's dark locks again as she said, "Good, that's great that you guys are spending more time together." Suddenly, Aunt Paige paused and seemed to be listening to something. "Oh, sorry Chris, I've got to go, a student's calling me." With one more smile at her nephew, Aunt Paige disappeared in a whirl of blue lights. _

_Chris put his baseball cap on, slid the slightly scratched leather of the baseball mitt through his hand, and made his way to the living room, where he would wait for Dad. As he walked down the stairs, he inhaled the familiar scent of chocolate chip cookies. An eager smile bursting on his face, Chris practically ran towards the kitchen, where he found a mound of grocery bags on the table and a plate of freshly baked cookies on the table. _

_He stealthily looked around for his mother, and when he didn't see her, telekinetically zoomed a cookie into his hand, from which a familiar hand promptly grabbed the stolen cookie out of his hand. _

"Mom!" _Chris whined. "Can't I have just _one?_" _

_Mom shook her head. "Wait until your father gets here. Then you can eat the cookies _together."

"_Fine." Chris pouted, settling himself on a seat in direct view of the cookies, presently content with just smelling the scent of cookies in the air. _

_He turned around quickly when he heard the sound of orbs, and his father arrived._

"_Daddy!" he shouted, running up to hug his father, who returned the tight embrace. _

"_Hey! How's my little boy?" Dad asked, releasing Chris, "And is that cookies I smell?" _

_Mom chuckled from the corner of the room, where she was watching father and son. "I swear, Leo, they both get their obsession of cookies from you." _

"_Or from you, since you make them," Dad teased back. _

_Chris looked at his mother. "Can I eat one now?" _

_At Piper's nod, Chris eagerly rushed over to grab a cookie for himself, paused, and then grabbed one more for his dad. Dad smiled in thanks at the cookie, then took a giant bite into the treat. _

"_Let's go!" Chris said impatiently, tugging at Dad's plaid shirt. _

"_Okay, Chris, we're goi –" Dad paused and tilted his head slightly to one side, listening to something. _

_Mom sounded concerned. "Leo, what is it?" _

_Dad turned to Mom with a regretful expression. "The Elders are calling me," _

"_What?" Mom snarled, uncrossing her arms, "But you just came from there!" _

"_I know," Dad looked pained, "But it sounds really important and urgent." _

_Mom didn't look happy. "Leo, your _son _is important to, especially after you missed his birthday! You promised him, Leo!" Chris flinched at his Mom's harsh words, a tight knot appearing in his stomach as he remembered that birthday, where he'd received another card. This baseball game was supposed to make up for that missed birthday. _

_Suddenly, Mom was up in Dad's face, holding on to his shirt collar menacingly. She was whispering quietly to Dad, but Chris could hear. "You _never _cancel on Wyatt, and you sure as hell are not going to cancel on Chris!" _

_Dad really looked miserable. "I know, and I'm sorry, but this sounds like a really bad crisis." _

_Sighing, and looking defeated, Mom released her husband. _

"_It's okay," Chris's small voice said quietly, "Dad's job is important." _

_Mom leaned down and held Chris's shoulders. "Are you sure, Chris?" _

_Chris nodded. Dad squeezed Chris's shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Chris; I'll make it up to you, I swear." With those last words, he orbed out back to his important job. _

_The small boy had been holding his tears in before, but he let them fall now. He angrily threw his baseball mitt skidding across the kitchen floor, the only outburst he allowed himself to show. Chris knew how upset his Mom got when his Dad bailed on him, and didn't want to make her more distressed. _

_Mom hugged him tightly, attempting to comfort the boy, "It's okay, baby, he'll keep his promise." _

_Chris nodded, but only for his mother's sake. Deep inside, he knew that Dad would never keep his promises and that he had been abandoned by his own father._

Blinking away the unshed tears that the memory had brought into his eyes, Chris orbed up to the attic to see what Leo looked so worried about. He arrived to see utter chaos. Leo was clutching Wyatt tightly, hidden behind one of the sofas. Chris noticed Phoebe throwing various potions from her hiding spot, to no avail.

The demon in question, who looked humanoid save for the yellow eyes and disfigured face, looked strangely familiar. Without even thinking about it, Chris gestured with his hand and sent the demon flying into the wall, using the other hand to send a broken piece of wood soaring into the demon's chest, causing it to scream in agony and disappear into ash.

"Thanks," Phoebe said, walking over to Chris, "I guess it's pretty convenient to another person with offensive powers around."

Chris shrugged. "I guess."

Phoebe gave him an implying look. "Hey, you didn't find out if you had any _more _powers from your vision quest, did you?"

His expression quickly shifting to the cold, emotionless mask Phoebe was so used to seeing before the amnesia. It looks like Chris was starting to revert to the person he was before.

Chris was severely annoyed. God, he bet Leo probably put Phoebe up to goading him about the vision quest too! He really could not stand the Halliwell family at the moment.

Phoebe pouted. "C'mon, Chris, you can tell me! I promise I can keep a secret!"

Instinctively snorting at this comment, Chris scrunched up his nose in confusion. How did he know that Phoebe couldn't keep a secret for her life?

"Please, please, please?"

"What are you, a five year old?" Chris asked. He laughed as he informed her, "You're giving me a Halliwell Headache."

_Wyatt was prodding Chris about his first date. "C'mon, how was it? Did you kiss her goodnight?" _

_Chris's face was flushed red in embarrassment. "Not any of your business," he muttered. _

"_Chris, I'm your big brother, and had to put up with you for thirteen years. I think I at _least _deserve a play-by-play." _

"_Oh, _you _had to put up with _me?_" Chris retorted sarcastically. _

_Wyatt grinned mischievously. "Chriiiiiiissss." He drawled. _

_Chris dramatically covered his ears with his hands, groaning, "Wyatt, shut up! You're giving me a Halliwell Headache!" _

"_Did you just make that up?" Wyatt asked, testing the phrase on his tongue. _

_Chris's grin matched his brothers. "Uh . . . yeah, actually." _

"_Nice," Wyatt commented, "Halliwell Headache. Hmm. I can think of plenty of times where I could have used it on you." _

"_Right back at you," Chris teased. "But your voice is giving me a Halliwell Headache. It's just so scratchy and ugly . . ." _

_Wyatt snorted. "Your _hair _gives me _and _Mom a Halliwell Headache. She's been after you for a long time to cut your hair. We aren't in the twentieth century, you know!" _

_Chris stuck out his tongue at his brother and whispered, "Halliwell Migraine!" _

"_No, it doesn't sound as good. Sorry, little brother." _

A brief flash of horror at his unintentional slip up crossed Chris's face as he stuttered in attempts to cover up his mistake. "Um, I mean, well, that _you_ are a Halliwell that's giving _me, _a _non_-Halliwell a headache. Uh, I've got to go!" With that, Chris orbed out.

Phoebe glanced at Leo through the corner of her eye. "What was _that _all about?"

Leo shrugged, also confused, and shifted Wyatt into a more comfortable position. "I have no idea."

* * *

Chris breathed a sigh of relief when he found himself back at P3. That was close. He walked out into the empty club, settling himself near the bar and resting his head on the table. He felt someone poking at the back of his neck, causing his head to jerk up suddenly. He stared into the eyes of Peter the bartender. 

"Change into who you really are," Chris growled, refusing to show any signs of weakness, especially when spikes of fear were crawling up his back.

Peter looked surprised for a second, before black lights surrounded him and he became Wyatt. "So . . . you've figured it out, huh? Took you long enough,"

"Shut up," Chris snapped, his voice hostile as the image of him plunging Excalibur into Wyatt's heart replayed in his mind again.

Chris could have sworn Wyatt's eyes glittered black for a second, as if he could see into his little brother's thoughts. He noticed subtle differences now between the bartender that patiently listened to him, and the man who stood before him now, who by appearance alone should be more comforting than the stranger Peter. But Wyatt seemed to have transformed into a different person. All the kindness that Chris had originally seen in Peter's eyes were gone now, the shine nonexistent. Chris gathered all the courage he could muster to stare into those dull blue eyes, so changed from the bright orbs that occupied baby Wyatt.

Before he had more time to reflect on this, Wyatt reached out and grabbed Chris's shirt collar, yanking him closer, his dark eyes boring into Chris's, piercing into his soul. Chris felt coldness freeze his spine, fear chilling his brain into inaction.

"Well, Chris, I think you've caused enough trouble. You may not remember, but _I _remember all that you've done. You _will _pay for your betrayal, little brother."

Chris opened his mouth and tried to say something, anything. The words were stuck in his throat, trying to claw their way out to no avail.

Wyatt smirked at his futile attempt. "Don't worry, though, Chris; in good time, your family will reject you, just like they did in the future."

Eyes narrowed in disbelief as Chris found his voice. "You're lying." Wyatt _had _to be. He had flashbacks where he had a family who loved him. _Well, except Leo, _he thought bitterly.

"No. I'm not." Wyatt said, conviction in his voice. He leaned in closer to Chris, smiling wryly, "By the way . . . this is only a _taste _of what I'll do to you for giving me a Halliwell Headache." He released his grip on Chris and let him absorb this information, pleased with himself. Of course, he'd never kill his own brother; he just wanted to break him down, make him vulnerable in order to make Chris see the light, and drop those fictional ideals of good and evil.

Chris felt anger coursing through his veins, anger similar to what he felt during the vision quest. Once again, Chris wondered why he risked everything to save his monster of a brother. The future couldn't possibly be _that _bad, could it?

Lashing out with a growl of frustration, Chris swung his fist towards Wyatt, who only laughed as the fist went right through him. Chris stared at his hand, bewildered and panicking as he wondered if he was still in the vision quest. God, those things can be tricky.

"Astral Projection, little brother. Another little power I picked up." Wyatt explained, making a show of looking at his watch to check the time, "Oh, sorry to cut this reunion short, but I've got some business to attend to. See you later." Wyatt's image fizzled for a second, and then vanished.

Chris slammed his fists onto the table, numbly watching blood flow from a cut on his hand, and held his head in his hands, feeling more lost than ever.


	8. Cover Up

Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the long wait . . . blame_ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_, spawning new story ideas! Usually I would at least have a long chapter to make up for the time, but the outline for this chapter didn't have much, since it's mostly made up of a memory. I realize that the story is Drama/Angst, and there hasn't really been so much full on angst so far. Well, (smirks mischievously) starting next chapter, the angst will dominate, so expect much darker chapters from here on out. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

An ear piercing scream sounded throughout the Halliwell Manor, causing all of its current occupants to race or orb to the source of the yell. A stampede of feet and chiming of orbs could be heard as Piper, Phoebe, and Chris arrived at the ajar door of the bathroom. 

"Paige, is it a demon?" Piper shouted, hands in an offensive position, ready to blow whatever the threat was up.

Paige's head poked through the door, looking confused. "Demon? What demon?"

"The demon you were just screaming your head off about!" Chris clarified impatiently, feeling irritated. Her scream had scared them all to death.

"Oh. Sorry, guys, I wasn't screaming about a demon."

Piper let out an annoyed groan. "So, you made the pregnant lady, who _should be resting _run up here to your ear splitting call? You know better than that Paige! You know that we _never scream like that _unless there is a demon in the house!"

Phoebe nodded in agreement with Piper, glaring at her younger sister. She was just in the middle of drinking her daily morning coffee when the scream had surprised her so much that she spilled the brown liquid on her favorite pajamas, staining the fabric and leaving Phoebe soaked and smelling like caffeine.

"So what was it?" Chris asked, sounding sleepy now.

Blushing, Paige looked as if she didn't want to tell. "Nothing," she muttered.

"Now, Paige, tell us why I spilled my coffee because of your non-demon related screaming." Phoebe snapped.

Paige frowned but murmured reluctantly, "I saw a zit on my face." She raised her voice, sounding irritated, "I thought I was past that phase! I thought that I couldn't even _get _pimples anymore!"

"I get them sometimes when I'm pregnant because of the hormones," Piper commented thoughtfully before narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Paige, "Wait . . . _you're _not pregnant, are you?"

"What? No!" Paige said indignantly, looking hurt that Piper even suggested that.

Chris, who was getting very tired of this conversation, voiced the solution to Paige's problem. "Just use cover up."

Paige rounded on Chris, scrutinizing him. "Yeah, well, I'm getting these _stress _pimples because of you, you know, Mr. I-Have-Amnesia! So don't try to cover up for yourself!"

Chris blinked as that last comment gave him a strange feeling of déjà vu . . .

"_Chris, will you cover for me?" _

"_What?" Chris asked, frowning slightly at his brother, "Again?"_

_Wyatt nodded impatiently. "Yeah. Listen, I'm going to leave when everyone is asleep, but I need you to cover if they find out I'm out of bed, okay? Can you do that?" _

"_What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, sorry Mom, but Wyatt decided to sleep walk out of the house to . . . wherever you're going'!" Chris snapped angrily. Frankly, he was getting tired of doing this. Of course, they were brothers; it was their job to look out for each other, but this was going way too far! Wyatt has been sneaking out several times a week, to who knows where! _

_Chris felt like he should say something to Mom, but wasn't very inclined to tattling. He's noticed a definite change in his brother recently, ever since his _father –_Chris scowled at the thought of his neglectful parent –continued to pound the importance of Wyatt's Twice-Blessed status into his head at every chance he got. Dear old Dad obviously wasn't around enough to realize that Wyatt's a freaking _teenager . . . _and teenagers will rebel when someone tries to control every aspect of them. _

_Sometimes Chris worried about his brother, how he was sneaking out late and everything. But he'd always had the utmost trust in his brother, and he knew Wyatt wasn't stupid enough to get himself into deep trouble._

_At least, that's what he told himself. _

"_You don't need to worry about where I'm going," Wyatt replied coolly, "And I'll be back before you know it; you probably won't even need to cover for me. You never needed to before." _

_Chris reluctantly agreed. _

_Later that night, long past midnight, Chris awoke with a start, his whitelighter senses tingling all over. Well, that or his connection with his brother. Either way, Chris knew something was wrong. Quickly, he glanced over at his bedside table, noting the bright green numbers blaring "2:00". _

_Chris swiftly threw his covers unceremoniously off him and crept outside of his room in his boxers, carefully making his way along the corridor and down the stairs, cautious to skip the squeaky steps. He let his instinct lead the way, and he found Wyatt leaning heavily on the living room couch, looking sick to his stomach. _

_As he approached his brother, he distinctly heard Wyatt mumbling something under his breath, and felt very faint magic ripple through the air._

Sick . . . sick feelings I w –wish to omit

Cease and des . . . desist before I vomit

_But the magic faded, and Chris could tell from the persistent green tinge in Wyatt's complexion that the spell didn't work. _

"_Wyatt?" Chris asked tentatively, tapping his shoulder gently. "You okay?" _

_His brother responded by turning around and throwing up all over Chris's shirt. Scrunching up his nose in disgust, Chris felt himself wanting to retch, but instead compromised and gagged on the vomit in his throat. He finally got a good look at Wyatt, and Chris's eyes widened when he saw his brother's eyes distant and unfocused. He began muttering incoherent words to himself, and Chris could have sworn that he smelled alcohol on Wyatt's breath. _

"_Wyatt?" Chris asked cautiously, "Are you drunk?" _

"_Why –why'd you say a thing like that?" Wyatt asked, looking positively ill, before puking again, this time on the carpet. _

_Quickly, Chris muttered a cleaning spell that he had made up a long time ago when he was little. At the time, he'd used it when he spilled apple juice all over the table, though. Unfortunately, it didn't work on Chris's shirt, and he was left with the disgusting scent of vomit._

"_It sounds like you used that sobering spell a lot, Wyatt," Chris accused, "Is this where you've been going to all these nights?" _

_Wyatt glared at him heatedly, confirming Chris's suspicions. "God, Wyatt, you can't just go off partying all night? What the hell am I supposed to do with you?" But in truth, Chris felt a little betrayed. Wyatt was supposed to be his big brother, his role model, his example. He couldn't help but wonder when the roles had been reversed and Chris had to be the responsible one. _

_But at the end of the day, Wyatt was still Chris's brother, and he needed Chris's help. So, he would help, no matter how irritated he was about Wyatt puking all over his shirt. _

"_C'mon, Wyatt, we'd better get you upstairs," Chris muttered, putting Wyatt's arm over his shoulder and supporting him, praying that Wyatt didn't puke on the way up, therefore alerting the adults. He severely wished that he could just orb them up to the room, but the loud chimes would also wake up Mom and his Aunts. _

_So, they had to slowly and carefully make their way up the stairs, which was pretty hard, considering the fact that really, only one of them was doing the walking. Wyatt was more leaning on Chris and trying not to throw up. Well, Chris was glad that he at least could hold it in for a while; although, Chris figured he probably smells strongly of beer now. He was looking forward to a _long _shower in the morning. As for Wyatt . . . he was pretty sure his brother was going to have a _massive _hangover in a few hours, if not now. _

_Luckily, they made it to their room without anything eventful happening. Chris dumped Wyatt onto his respective bed, and crept out into the bathroom, intent on trying to get the puke off his shirt. _

_Turning on the faucet, knowing that going to the bathroom in the middle of the night wouldn't arouse any suspicions, and hopefully no investigations. Scrunching up his nose in disgust, Chris attempted to wash vomit off his shirt with hand soap. He worked on it for a while, intently scrubbing the cotton with his fingers. Unfortunately, Chris didn't hear the door open._

"_Chris?" _

_Closing his eyes, he groaned inwardly. Could this night get any worse?_

_Mom stood at the door, arms crossed sternly. "What are you doing?" _

"_Uh . . . laundry?" Chris offered lamely. _

_Not surprisingly, Mom didn't look very convinced by this. "Christopher Perry Halliwell! Tell the truth! Do I need to use the Truth Spell on you?" _

_Cringing openly, Chris shook his head. "My shirt got dirty, so I was cleaning it." Well, at least that was the half truth. _

"_In the middle of the night?" Mom asked skeptically, arching an eyebrow. "That's a little fishy, Chris." She stepped closer to her son, suspicion deepening in her eyes at every step she took. Her eyes widened, and Chris realized with a pang that she had smelled the alcohol that had apparently rubbed off on Chris. _

"_Christopher . . ." she said in a deadly voice usually only reserved for particularly nasty demons, "Have you been drinking?" _

"_No!" Chris said truthfully, shaking his head vigorously. _

_Mom pointed her finger at the hall. "Go to bed, _now. _We'll talk about this tomorrow." She was positively fuming, and Chris knew his mother was trying very hard to resist from blowing up at him. Meekly, Chris quickly made his way back to his room, full intent on yelling at Wyatt for getting him involved in his mess. _

* * *

_When Chris woke up the next morning, he was surprised to find Wyatt already out of bed. He had hoped to catch him and figure out what they were going to do about this. After all, it _was _Wyatt's fault that Chris was in trouble now. _

_He sensed for his brother and detected his aura somewhere downstairs, which is where he headed, looking both ways before he moved, making sure he couldn't see his mother. But when he arrived downstairs, he saw that his mother and aunts were all sitting in the living room silently. Knowing that this was possibly about him, Chris retreated back upstairs and orbed to the kitchen, where he hoped his brother was._

_Once he appeared, he found his youngest cousin Penelope orbing a couple feet towards him. Chris rolled his eyes; Pen had been practicing orbing at every chance she got ever since Aunt Paige started allowing her to, although Chris and Wyatt had secretly helped her learn when she was little and his Aunt wasn't home. _

"_You're in _**BIG **_trouble Chris!" she squealed, the six-year-old's brown pigtails bouncing up and down while Chris made shushing sounds and wild hand motions, trying to keep his little cousin quiet. It didn't work though; with a groan, Chris heard footsteps coming from the living room, and sure enough, his mother and aunts were here. _

"_Shit." _

_Mom crossed her arms and pointed to the living room. After shooting an angry glare at Wyatt, who was sitting at the table, perfectly sober and without a hangover, eating pancakes calmly and watching this exchange, Chris reluctantly trudged over to the forebodingly looking living room coach, his feet heavy. _

_By then, nearly the entire Halliwell family was in the living room, although the kids tended to stay off to the side, wisely anticipating and avoiding Hurricane Piper. _

"_Christopher Perry Halliwell." Mom started off sternly, "You came home yesterday, smelling like alcohol. Were you out partying or something?" _

_Chris really did not know what to say. He didn't really want to rat Wyatt out, but at the same time, did he really want to take the fall for him when he'd done nothing wrong? So instead, he decided to remain silent._

"_I'll take that as a yes," Mom practically snarled, causing Chris to flinch. She'd never sounded this mad before; at least, not at _him, _not even when he'd blown up the toaster. . . "_**You **_are in trouble. Sneaking off in the middle of the night is not only dangerous, but it sets a bad example for your younger cousins. Aren't you going to say anything? Are you even ashamed?" _

_Finally, Chris couldn't take it any more. The way his Mom was looking at him . . . it made his insides squirm with guilt, even when he didn't do anything. He had to tell the truth. "It wasn't me, Mom, it was Wyatt," he said, inclining his head at his older brother, "He came home late, drunk and partied out, and when I tried to help him back upstairs, he puked all over me, so I was trying to wash it out." _

_Mom listened to this with narrowed eyes, staring at him intensely, trying to figure out if Chris was lying or not. _

_Wyatt scoffed from the corner where he was currently leaning against the wall. "Please, Chris, blame everything on me, why don't you?" _

_Whirling around to face his brother, Chris's mouth dropped incredulously. He was actually going to let Chris take the fall for him? "Wha –no –you . . ." _

_Smirking, Wyatt said, "Don't try to cover up for yourself." _

Chris blinked, snapping out of the memory. Paige was staring at him closely, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Are you okay, Chris?" she asked, concerned.

"What? Yeah, fine," Chris muttered, "Uh, I've got to go." He maneuvered his way around the sisters and walked off.

Phoebe frowned as she felt a ripple of emotions coming from Chris –pain. Deciding to investigate this, she excused herself and followed the whitelighter, catching him in the foyer. She had a feeling that this concerned whatever Chris had found out in his vision quest.

"Chris, wait!" she called. He turned around tiredly. "Listen, I can tell whatever you found out from the vision quest is hurting you . . . why don't you want to talk about it? It'll make you feel better."

He stared at her blankly, his face completely devoid of emotions. "He's here," he informed hoarsely at last, "Wyatt's here."

Phoebe's eyes widened as she absorbed this. "Wait . . . _Wyatt? _As in future, evil Wyatt?"

"Yeah, that Wyatt." Chris confirmed.

"Oh my god . . . what do we do?" she murmured, mostly to herself.

Chris sighed exhaustedly, "I don't know. You're the Charmed Ones; _you _figure it out."

He made a move to orb out, but Phoebe gripped his shoulder tightly, stopping him. "We know you're Good, you know. You don't have to cover up for your identity."

Chris stared at her with hesitant eyes, making her think that Chris was about to tell her before he said instead with sad eyes, "Yes, I do," and orbed out.


	9. Independance

**Little Miss Spell-of-the-Week: **Heh, sorry, but they sisters won't discover Chris's identity, nor will he receive all of his memories until near the end. Yeah, Wyatt's really corrupted, even as a teenager . . . thanks for the review!

Sorry about the random last two chapters. I had gotten stuck at that point in the outline and just sort of wrote in those filler chapters. Oh, and if part of the plot of this chapter looks familiar, it's because I used the outline for this chapter as a basis for my two shot _See the Sun. _Thanks for the reviews! Here's a hopefully a more interesting chapter to make up for it. Hmm . . . it didn't turn out as angsty as I thought it would be . . . oh well. Enjoy!

* * *

"Got it!" 

Piper and Phoebe turned around to see Paige running up the stairs, piece of paper in hand.

"Got what?" Piper asked, glancing suspiciously between her two sisters, both looking somewhat guilty.

Phoebe muttered something indistinct, but raised her voice at her eldest sister's glare. "The vanquishing potion we used for Balthazar."

"WE ARE _**NOT** _GOING TO VANQUISH MY SON!" Piper roared, her expression livid.

"Piper! Calm down!" Paige snapped, "It's just a precaution."

But Piper did not look convinced. Instead, she strode over to the playpen where the miniature version of the evil despot was standing up, his bright blue eyes wide in distress at his mother's yelling. "Oh, I'm sorry, baby, Mommy didn't mean to yell." She cooed, picking her son up and holding him defensively.

"Piper . . ." Phoebe said, with a hint of impatience in her voice, "It probably won't kill him; just weaken him. Listen, we know he's back in the past and manages to become the evil overlord of the world, so we know he's powerful and dangerous. And after Chris. You have to accept that we might have to hurt him to stop him." At Piper murderous glare, Phoebe started to get impatient. "He's _my _nephew too, Piper! Do you really think I want to hurt him? But right now, he's as good as a demon."

Paige nodded vigorously, completely agreeing with Phoebe. Although Piper still did not look convinced, she didn't protest any more, merely bouncing Wyatt. But she suddenly burst out, "So we're willing to risk vanquishing my son for _Chris? _Chris, of all people!"

"He's an innocent in this," Phoebe gently reminded her, "It's our job to protect him."

"We don't know that," Piper snapped sharply, absentmindedly patting Wyatt's back, "He could still be a threat."

Paige scoffed. "Please. What could a witch-whitelighter with amnesia possibly do to be a threat?"

* * *

A blood curdling scream of agony echoed throughout the cavern, the demon's eyes wide and shocked as flames consumed his body, shrieking until he finally combusted into ash. 

Christopher Halliwell smirked in satisfaction but didn't have time to revel in his victory as another spike came hurtling his way. He nimbly dodged the sharp spikes that come from beneath the demon's wrists; relying on the adrenaline rush and the instinctive skill he had before the amnesia to guide him. However, he hadn't expected a demon to come in from the side and shoot his spike straight at Chris's side.

He yelled out in pain as the spike drove deeply into his arm, adding to the many scratches and burns he'd received already. Chris hadn't been able to feel these minor injuries, but as he stopped and the numbing rush slowed down, sharp pain shot up his arm and the place of various inflictions. Taking a brief moment to scrunch up his face and remove the spike, he then used his telekinesis to hurl it at the offending demon, who had been moving closer to attack and didn't expect to be staked in the heart by its own weapon.

Spotting a sharp rock on the ground, with effort Chris directed the rock at the demon's head, who turned into ash.

Finally, the battle being over, Chris fell to the ground, cradling his heavily bleeding arm, starting to feel slightly lightheaded. Carefully, he made his way over to the wall, leaning his head back against it, clutching his arm tightly.

That had felt so good. Well, at least until the demon had finally got him. Still, there was such an amazing rush of invincibility, of power . . . just the simplicity of the predicament; the uncomplicated matter of fighting for survival helped Chris clear his mind of his other troubles. Granted, it was a dangerous exercise, but he decided to risk it nonetheless. Memories were starting to trigger everywhere, driving him insane with the constant pressure on his mind, and he needed to let loose some steam.

Another thing on his mind was the sisters, his mother and aunts. To tell the truth, Chris _still _wasn't quite used to that fact yet. It's just that lately, he's felt extremely detached from them, deadened and dreading everything. Trying his best to hide the secret of his parentage, Chris had been avoiding the sisters as much as possible, minimizing the opportunity to slip up. In doing so, with no one else he could possibly talk to, Chris had become somewhat secluded, and restless.

He had been looking over his shoulder constantly, eyeing everything suspiciously, afraid that it'd be his brother, ready to make good on his word. Chris hated sitting on his butt, fidgeting and waiting for trouble to come to him. No, he decided to find trouble, and did it feel _good_ to vanquish. Riding scum from the world and getting a twisted form of therapy in one go? He'd take it.

Chris wondered what exactly would Wyatt do, and if the Charmed Ones were taking any measures to ensure Chris's safety. Somehow, he doubted it. The sisters didn't seem to have any warm feelings for him, and he couldn't honestly say he had any for them either. With his fragmented memory, Chris didn't know these women, and with how slightly coldly they were treating him now, it was hard to feel that unconditional love a son and nephew was supposed to have for his relatives.

Nevertheless, he would attempt, at the very least, what he was supposed to do in the past, even if it felt like a huge, unwanted, and uninspired burden now. Chris just could not see why he had gone through all this trouble to come back to the past where he was met with constant suspicion to save a dictator. Searching Wyatt's icy blue eyes for a sign of humanity, Chris had found none, and he could only chalk up the answer to his own question as the fact that they were brothers.

But then, wouldn't it have been easier if Chris had just gotten rid of the baby Wyatt? No, a brother that remembered all the good times with his sibling couldn't murder easily. Chris didn't think he would carry that plan either; he was not a killer. Just as he thought that, he was struck with an image of himself stabbing the vision Wyatt with a sword. Chris shivered.

The main thing that has been bugging Chris is the fact that he doesn't know who he is. Sure, he knew he was Chris Halliwell, son of Piper Halliwell, a Charmed One, and Leo Wyatt, insufferable Elder extraordinaire. But he didn't know _who _he was, deep inside.

Chris had no idea what his soul was like. Was he some kind of hardened fighter, or something? He didn't know. Was he capable of love? He certainly wasn't feeling that emotion lately; although he recalled the vision Wyatt mentioning that he had a fiancé.

Vaguely, Chris wondered what his fiancé was like; was she pretty, smart, kind, or resourceful? Was she a witch or some other magical being as well, or was she a regular mortal?

So basically, Chris had gotten the main piece –his identity –but the majority of the puzzle, his heart and soul, were still unfilled mysteries to him, mysteries he hoped to solve somehow.

His thoughts halted when he realized that his breathing was starting to become shallow, that each ragged lungful of air brought a sharp pain to his chest. Groaning after sparing a glance at his arm, he saw that it was bleeding pretty badly, and everything started to catch up to him.

_No! _Chris thought, refusing to fall unconscious in the Underworld, the most dangerous place for him. Well, the second most dangerous. Facing the fury of Hurricane Piper ranked as number one.

_Chris!_ Phoebe's voice rang in Chris's head. He groaned; he really did _not _need this right now. Summoning up his strength, Chris orbed to the Manor, managing to stop himself from looking like he was hurt.

"Good, you're here. Where the hell were you? I've been calling!" Phoebe demanded. _Apparently this is her version of a greeting, _Chris thought, amused.

Paige scrutinized him carefully. "Hey, you okay Chris?"

"What?" Chris asked, flinching. "No, I'm fine."

Phoebe rubbed her temples as a flurry of emotions hit her all at once. "Oww . . . okay, who's giving me an empathic headache?"

But Piper wasn't paying much attention to what her younger sister was saying. Something about Chris disturbed her; his face was much to pallid, beads of sweat were trickling down his face, and he looked very restrained, as if he were hiding something from them.

Phoebe was the one who voiced Piper's observations aloud though. "It's you!" she said suddenly, pointing to Chris, "I'm feeling you!" Phoebe paused before frowning and wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Wait, ew. Never mind."

Chris grimaced.

"What, are you hiding a weapon in there or something?" Piper barked, still peeved from earlier.

Weakly, Chris shook his head, his eyes darting back and forth, searching for an escape route or something to distract the sisters with. Unfortunately, at this point he was far too tired to attempt any sort of subtlety or tact, so it wasn't very surprising to him that all three sisters noticed his shifty actions.

Narrowing her eyes, Paige orbed Chris's jacket off to him, much to his protest when he saw blue orbs surrounding him. Once she had orbed it to the corner of the room, all three sisters involuntarily gasped at their whitelighter's condition.

"You're bleeding!" Paige observed, noticing the huge, bleeding gash on his arm.

_Duh, _Chris thought sarcastically, but instead of saying it out loud, he hissed in pain, collapsing onto a nearby chair.

"What the _hell _were you doing?" Piper demanded, feeling concerned despite trying very hard not to.

Chris mumbled something inaudible.

"What was that?" Phoebe asked in a gentle voice, having felt the agony the young whitelighter was in. Plus, she liked to believe that there was something good in anyone who had at least a pint of humanity in them; blame Cole for showing her that even demons (well, _half _demons) could love. And Chris _was _half angel, after all; Phoebe was convinced that although his methods may be questionable, his intentions were good. Especially since he had lost his memory, Chris suddenly struck Phoebe, and Paige, as a bit vulnerable; Piper was the only one who refused to see that, though.

"I went . . ." Chris coughed, spits of blood flying out onto the floor tiles, "demon hunting . . ."

At the mention of demon hunting, Paige had snapped out of it and immediately grabbed the white towel next to her and wrapped it around Chris's injured arm, ignoring his stunned stare. "Put pressure on that, okay?" she instructed, "At least until we can get Leo or someone to heal you,"

"O . . . okay." Chris said, still looking confused. But nevertheless, he put his good hand on the towel and applied pressure to the wound.

Piper sighed. "Why were you demon hunting? Actually, _who _were you vanquishing?"

"Spike demons," Chris muttered, fidgeting uncomfortably under their intense gazes.

"Wait, weren't we going to tackle them after we made the Wyatt vanquishing potion? Uh, I mean, the weakening potion," Phoebe corrected after catching Piper's mutinous glare.

Chris shrugged. "I decided to help you out. What's wrong with that?"

"What's _wrong _with that is that you got yourself badly hurt!" Piper exploded, acting far angrier than she should be, taking out all of her frustrations on Chris. "Leave the vanquishing to _us! _We've had a hell of a lot more experience than a whitelighter, okay? We can handle it, _you _can't!"

Fearing that this could escalate to dangerous territory, Phoebe quickly called Leo's name. Piper was distracted mid-rant by the blinding blue lights of her ex-husband.

"Yeah?" Leo asked.

"Dropped the 'Blessed Be' crap, I see," Paige teased playfully, eternally happy he _did _get rid of that annoying saying.

Leo frowned at Paige, but otherwise didn't comment, instead turning to Phoebe. "You called?"

"Healing, now," Phoebe said, but took a step backwards when Leo started walking towards her, "No, _him._" She corrected, pointing behind Leo.

Turning around, Leo stifled a groan, clearing remembering his last encounter with Chris. It hadn't gone very well. He had half a mind to refuse, but after seeing the younger man's state, the pacifist in him got the best of him. Rushing over to Chris, he quickly let the warm golden glow envelop his body, effectively healing him. Leo thought he heard Chris mutter his thanks.

"How'd you get these wounds?" Leo asked, curious now.

Chris sighed and unwrapped the formerly white towel on his arm, pointing tiredly at Piper. "Ask them."

"He vanquished the Spike demons . . . by himself," Paige explained at Leo's questioning look.

"You really should take better care of yourself," Leo admonished, frowning in disapproval.

Chris scowled at his castigating. "You can't tell me what to do; you're not my father."

Piper's frown matched Leo's. "He's right, you know; you really should be careful." She had cooled down by now, and those concerned feelings were surfacing again.

"_You're _the one who needs to be careful," Chris shot back, gesturing at her gigantic pregnant stomach. Flinching, Chris groaned inwardly as he felt a sharp pain in his head, indicating the triggering of another memory. _Shit. _Great, just great.

_Ten year old Chris smiled as he inhaled the delicious scent of his mother's lasagna, taking his time to enjoy the taste while his brother wolfed it down eagerly. The atmosphere of the happy kitchen table was just of a family enjoying each other's company, everyone feeling relatively at ease. It was a little emptier than usual: Wyatt was at a friend's house and Phoebe's family was out doing something. _

_The only thing that felt wrong about everything was that Dad had said he would come down for dinner, but never showed. Chris glanced at his mother, who was laughing at something Aunt Paige had said, and could tell from her eyes that she was little sad that Dad hadn't come, but was trying not to show it._

_Well, he could understand. After all, Chris was pretty used to his father's absence by now. _

_Suddenly, without warning, a ripple of magic ripped through the air, causing everyone to flinch. A strong looking demon broke through the magical barrier and into the Manor. _

_Penelope screamed, her little lungs causing the demons to smirk in satisfaction. Quickly, Mom flicked her wrists to vanquish the demon, to no avail. He staggered backwards, harmed from the blow, but only laughed and plunged forward, glaring at Penelope. The little girl stiffened and her eyes became blank and unfocused. _

_Chris, realizing the demon was doing something to his cousin, flung his hands out in desperation, activating his telekinesis and sending the demon skidding backwards a few inches. The demon smirked as his attention was focused on Chris. Glancing swiftly in the corner of his eye, Chris was relieved to see Penelope blinking as if waking from a dream, and hurriedly orbed out of there, like she was instructed to do if a demon attacked. _

_The demon scowled menacingly and gestured with his hand, ripping a chair leg off the table, sending it flying towards Chris, who leaped out of the way to avoid a fatal wound, but was staked in the leg. He cried out in pain, knowing the demon's shadow was on him, ready to finish him off . . . _

_Aunt Paige had unclasped the potions bag she always carried with her, throwing random potions at the demon, hoping one would do the trick. It seemed to be working; the demon staggered backwards, away from Chris._

"_Chris! Orb for help!" Mom shouted, still flicking her wrists._

_Mom and Aunt Paige kept going on the offensive, while Chris tried to orb. But the agony of his wound made him unable to concentrate, and it was no use, instead just crouching behind Aunt Paige, trying desperately to orb._

_The demon shimmered behind Aunt Paige, grabbing her roughly on the neck and began to choke her. Mom turned around, hands raised menacingly, but then demon merely tittered at her. _

"_Now, you don't want to go blowing up your sister, do you?" he sneered. His hands dug into Aunt Paige's neck, causing her to sputter and the flow of oxygen become harder. _

_Chris's eyes widened in fear, and out of pure instinct, reached his hands out to push the demon away, screaming, "_NO!" _But before he physically touched the demon, it exploded in flames, dropping Chris's aunt to the floor, grasping her neck. _

_Mom stared at her son in shock. "You –you can blow things up?" she asked, but after realizing that Chris was hurt, she immediately snapped back into momma mode. She crawled over to him, placing her hand on the table leg imbedded in his leg. "This is going to hurt a bit, okay?" _

_He merely gritted his teeth and painstakingly nodded. _

"_Okay, on the count of five. One, two, three!" On three, Mom yanked the stake out of his leg. Chris screamed as unbearable agony overtook him; for a moment he could feel nothing but pain. Quickly, Mom pressed her hands against the wound, trying to relieve the bleeding._

"_LEO!" Aunt Paige called, her voice hoarse. _

_Mom waited for a second before trying herself. "LEO get your butt down here; Chris is hurt!" _

_They waited, and still Leo did not come. _

"_Paige," Mom said sharply. "Can you orb? Good. Go get Wyatt so he can . . ."_

_Chris couldn't hear any more. Images and colors blurred and swirled in front of him, sounds became dull, and he couldn't feel anything, not even pain. He was numb._

"_C'mon, baby, just hold on until your brother gets here . . ." Mom pleaded, her hot tears stinging Chris's cheek. _

_After what seemed like an eternity, Chris felt warmth spread through his body as he was fixed. But even after it was all done, he just laid there in his mother's lap, emotionally and physically exhausted. Finally, he found the strength to look into the face of his savior. Chris half expected it to be his dad, come to the rescue at last._

_It wasn't._

Chris snapped out of it, and immediately felt suffocated by the concerned, confused looks everyone was sending his way. "I have to go and do something," he muttered quickly, orbing out with a glare filled with animosity directed towards Leo.

Piper and Leo unconsciously exchanged worried looks.

"What was _that _all about?" Phoebe asked, rubbing her forehead vigorously, as if trying to scrub Chris's emotions out of her head.

Everyone shrugged. Who knows what goes on in Chris's head these days?

* * *

A light breeze whipped through a mop of untidy brown hair, the only thing moving on Chris's body. Leaning back against the angel statue where he had first taken sanctuary when he had lost his memory, Chris enjoyed the quiet, subtle feeling of security. 

There weren't any people in that section of the park, which suited Chris just fine. He was due for a little peace and quiet anyway. Instead of having an earful of Piper's lecturing, he closed his eyes and really listened to his surroundings. The perky chirp of a bird, the rustling of leaves in a swaying, creaking tree branch, the crunch of gravel as someone approached him. . .

Slowly opening one eye to see who it was, Chris immediately opened the other. He needed a pair of eyes to completely absorb what was in front of him.

A woman stood in front of him. A dazzling, beautiful, dark apparition that just emulated power, grace, and danger. But something broke the vision; she was hurt. Bruises and cuts littered her body, and the fear and longing in her eyes entranced Chris to her. She looked so familiar –as if he'd seen her from a dream.

Tentatively, Chris got up from the bench and began walking towards her, mesmerized by her. Like a sleep walker, he sluggishly made his way towards her, gingerly reaching out his hand towards her face, feeling breathless. But he was startled when she spoke, quickly retracting his hand.

"Chris," she said, her voice breaking, eyes pleading, "Help me."

Before Chris could answer, she disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs, but something in his gut told him that the orbs were not her doing. Chris felt the need to help her, so he extended his arm towards her. As she reached her arm towards him, Chris caught a flash of a red something on the inside of her wrist. As they reached for each other, their hands touched briefly, causing indescribable feelings to shoot up his arm, into his heart. Perhaps he wasn't as impassive as he feared he was. He held her eyes in his until even they were caught up in the orbs.

Chris's hand remained grasping at thin air.


End file.
